Tainted Name
by Polished Gem
Summary: R&R!Two brothers pitted against each other for one human girl. Shy Clara Goddard isn't used to so much attention. She has had a crush on Brakken forever...but it's Drew that sends her heart into palpitations. Jez's existence hinges on her choice. Without
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't technically own Clara or Drew. I definitely do not own Uncle Brakken or Jezebel or Jim Goddard or other notable Night World Characters that may show up over the course of the story.**

**Chapter 1**

Clara balanced on the upper uneven bar, her legs splayed in the American Split. She had been practicing for hours, but the instructor wouldn't let her stop. Slowly taking a deep breath, she dipped forward into a seamless stride circle. She looped around the bar three times before coming to a rest.

"Tuck your chest in!" The instructor was calling out to Lizzie, Clara's best friend.

The two were here for private lessons. They'd long since left the regular classes to move onto bigger and better things. Clara knew she was too old to ever make it into the Olympics. That didn't really matter to her all that much. It was the art that she loved. Ever since she was a little girl, she had watched the gymnasts on TV and had said, "Mommy, I want to be like that!"

The sport had come easily to her. Slowly, she brought her legs together and dipped below the bar. She worked herself into a lazy tap swing, moving back and forth until she had picked up momentum. She thrust forward, letting go of the bar. She was completely upside down. She twisted one hundred eighty degrees mid-air and caught the lower bar, tucking her knees to her chest. She swirled around the bar until her momentum ceased. Slowly she lowered her feet to the ground.

A look at the clock on the far wall told her it was time to leave. The kiddie classes would be starting soon. Besides, Clara needed to hurry home and help her parents get ready for the barbeque tonight. They would be celebrating her graduation in a week. She moved toward the dressing room.

Clara pulled a towel to her forehead and wiped the beads of sweat away. She could imagine what she looked like, her auburn hair hanging limply in her ponytail, the back slick from sweat. Lizzie had once told her that she looked like a medieval princess with her fine-bone appearance and regal jaw line. Clara was less likely to agree. She looked like exactly what she was: Clara Goddard. It was hard to change a reputation in her school once pegged. And Clara had been pegged as a shy girl. Smart and shy. Few knew she was also a budding gymnast.

For San Francisco, Miada High was a small school. If Clara had ended up in one of the inner city schools, she supposed she could have made a name for herself. But to do that, she would have to learn how to shed her old skin. It was hard to lose old habits.

She pulled out a pair of jeans and a loose tee-shirt.

"Man, I'm pooped," Lizzie stated, coming into the change room behind her. "Dringer was really working us hard today."

"Yeah," Clara nodded. "It was good."

Lizzie frowned at her. "You can't find fault with anything, can you?"

Clara thought about for a minute. "Of course I can," she said, shrugging into her tee-shirt. "I don't like burned marshmallows or dog bites or sneezing during the middle of a test."

Lizzie snorted, pulling out a form-fitting top. Lizzie was the height of fashion, no matter where she was. Clara, on the other hand, just liked to blend into the crowd. She didn't know how they'd ever become friends. But it was a good arrangement. Lizzie got all the attention and Clara got to be ignored. She liked being ignored. Especially by boys. If one came up and started to talk to her, she got all tongue-tied and frazzled. It was so embarrassing.

Clara was a completely different person in the gym. It was her chance to show off. She would never wear something so daring as she would in the gym. It was her place to just break free and be beautiful for once. And it was the only place she could do so without feeling exposed.

As soon as she left the gym, she always donned clothes that would make her blend in. The regular tee-shirts that every sporty girl wore.

"No, something real," Lizzie urged. "Like you don't hate anyone. Name one person you actually dislike."

"Drew Redfern," Clara responded automatically.

It was her standard response. The boy gave her the creeps. Oh, he was good-looking enough with his short dark hair and enigmatic smile. But his green eyes were just too cold, too calculating to make her feel comfortable. She was just glad that he had never placed them in her direction.

He had a history of getting into trouble. Mostly just minor crimes like destruction of property. He and a few friends had bowled over some mailboxes for fun last year. A whole street had to buy new boxes just to receive their mail. He and his friends also had a reputation for slitting tires and throwing baseballs through people's windows. It was only his luck that Drew hadn't been to jail yet. That, or the fact that his father was amazingly rich. No one knew exactly why.

"You always say that," Lizzie shook her head with a dreamy look. "He's a great kisser, you know."

Lizzie had dated him for about a month last year. Then, all of the sudden, he had broken the relationship short. Not that it was any surprised. He changed girlfriends regularly, so no one thought much about it. Lizzie had been heart-broken. She probably still had a crush on him even though she was busy pursuing about three other guys.

Clara shook her head and slipped the backpack onto her shoulders. Honestly, she felt Lizzie was better off without him. They began to leave the change room, chatting amiably. As they moved back into the gym, Clara stopped stalk still. Her heart increased and a flush entered her cheeks.

She was looking through the windows that lined the one wall. They showed the adjacent gym just next to theirs. The badminton nets had been set up, just as they were every Tuesday and the class was filing in.

She searched the players and her heart caught in her throat as she found the one she was looking for. She caught sight of Brakken's dark head and bright smile as he joked with a buddy, punching him in the arm.

Lizzie groaned, pulling Clara along. "Come on, you have that barbeque remember?"

"Just a few moments," Clara protested but Lizzie wouldn't take no for an answer. She pulled her out into the parking lot and Clara moved along with no more protests. She didn't want to appear like she was staring—even though that's clearly what she was doing.

"Why don't you just ask him out, if you like him that much?" Lizzie asked as soon as they had stepped through the double-doors and out into the street.

"You can't be serious," she said, giving her friend a scared look. "I've barely said more than a few words to him all year."

"And whose fault is that?" Lizzie replied. She failed to understand how hard this was on Clara. But even Lizzie, the bubbly and sociable, boy crazy one had not had a date with Brakken Redfern. He was legend around Miada High.

He was nothing like his twin brother. Sure, they had a lot of similar features, but that's where the similarities ended. Brakken's eyes were a warm and clear blue. He never got into trouble and was the star athlete of just about every sport in school. Not to mention the teachers loved him because he was so bright.

And the girls loved him because he was so friendly, not to mention good-looking. He had just broken up with his long standing girlfriend Jen Abforth. Jen was a rather strange girl. People said she was all into that new agey herbs and stones to change moods and heal colds. But people generally liked her because she was Brakken's girlfriend.

Clara couldn't help the rising hope that had filled her the moment Jen was gone from the picture. But it really didn't make a difference, since she would never do anything about it.

"Okay, well then flirt with him or something," Lizzie said, twirling a brown strand around her finger. "It's not as if you're bad looking or anything. The boys would look at you more if you would wear something cute once and a while."

"I can't!" Clara replied, giving her another horrified look. She was talking about flirting with Brakken, but she would have had the same reaction to dressing to impress.

She rummaged in her pocket for her keys and realized that they weren't there. She dropped her stuff beside an impatiently waiting Lizzie. "Just a minute!" she said. "I forgot my keys my locker."

She hurried back toward the recreational facility, hoping they'd still be there when she got back. She ducked into the change room and headed for the row of orange lockers on the wall. She located her keys and slipped them into her pocket.

She ran back of the locker room. Her mother would be expecting her soon. She got scolded for running across the newly waxed gym with her running shoes on.

"Sorry!" She apologized, blazing through the door into the reception area. She slammed right into a figure. The guy seemed unaffected by her slight form, but running into him had been like ramming into a steel wall. Clara began to fall backward, but a pair of arms reached out and caught her, bringing her to her feet.

"Sorry!" she apologized automatically to the guy's jersey. She looked up then and the blood rushed to her cheeks. This is so embarrassing! She thought, preoccupied with how red her cheeks were.

"H-hi Brakken," was all she could manage.

His smile was kind—but it was almost unnerving the way he was looking at her. It was almost as if he knew what was running through her head at the moment. It was a good thing he couldn't, because then she would have been even more embarrassed.

"Hey," he replied. "Didn't mean to get in the way of your rush."

"Oh, no…problem," she was smiling while trying to think of something else to say. She wracked her brains and not a dang thought would come to her head. The more she wracked her brains, the more clueless she became. The smile was starting to hurt her cheeks.

Finally, he rescued her from her embarrassment. "Hey, you're Clara, aren't you? Clara Goddard. Lizzie's friend."

"Yeah," she smiled again. Her cheek muscles were going to get a lot of exercise before the end of this conversation. Again, she was left floundering for something to say.

"And you're Brakken," she said.

"Yeah, you said that earlier," a faint smile crinkled his eyes.

She felt like hyperventilating. He was probably laughing at her. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap…

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Hey, no problem," he replied as friendly as ever. "You're probably frazzled from being in a hurry. Hey don't let me stop you."

"Great," She said as she began to back away and then realized what she had just said. "No. I didn't mean great to get away from you. Just…oh, never mind."

He did chuckle this time.

"No worries," he said teasingly, tapping my forehead. "I know what's going on up here, anyway."

Yeah. Right. But at least he was making a joke out of it so that she wouldn't feel so bad. He was really nice, just like all the girls said.

"Bye," She decided to exit before she made even more of a fool out of herself.

"See you in school," he replied.

She practically fled.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Her blood was warm and sweet and it deepened his shallow breaths, but Drew took no pleasure from it. Usually after drinking the stuff, the rich and life giving substance could make him happy, no matter what mood. Not tonight. The blood left a sour and coppery aftertaste in the back of his mouth. He'd taken enough anyway. He removed his mouth from the girl's throat and set her back in the passenger seat. Her head flopped against the closed window. It didn't matter. There was no one there to see them tonight. Gardle's Point was empty--mostly on the account of students scrambling last minute for the upcoming exams.

This was a favorite make-out spot for the students of Miada High. It looked over the rolling hills that dropped several lengths beneath. It was a nice little nook, sheltered from the sun by the road above. The sun was of little problem to Drew's overly sensitive eyes at this time of night. It was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a ruddy glow along the hilltops.

Drew sighed, leaning his forehead into the steering wheel. He couldn't take another look at the girl still flopped in the passenger's seat. She was completely knocked out and wouldn't wake up for days if he didn't prompt her to. She had very little telepathic resistance--almost none in fact. That's one of the main reason's he'd chosen her as his most recent girlfriend.

It was a poor choice on his part. They'd only been dating her for a month and he'd already wanted to throttle her for the past week. She was the most whiny--the most clingy girlfriend he'd had yet. And whenever she was awake--she'd never shut up. She didn't even know how to breath properly. She would take these tiny little half breaths between sentences, bulldozing on for like a mile-long one-manned--womanned--conversation.

He knew he should wake her up and take her home but he didn't know if he could stomach the chatter right now. He very well might throttle her, and then he'd have the human police force on his case--because he'd been the last person to be alone with her. No, better not do that. Even if humans were vermin, they could still pose a threat.

The first thing he'd done once he'd driven into their secluded spot was to send a telepathic punch in her direction. Anything to get rid of that awful noise!

Drew looked up from the steering wheel, feeling slightly claustrophobic. He needed some fresh Californian air. That's it. He'd go for a walk. He opened the car door and hopped out into the cool evening breeze. He took a deep breath, catching the smell of barbeques. There was a large camp site no more than half a mile from here. Drew picked his way deftly down the slope. He could do with a scenic tour. He hadn't been to that particular campsite in over a year.

It took him little time to reach it. He heard the sound of a dog barking and a couple crackling fires. He kicked at a tent stake as he moved by. The tent flopped slightly to one side. He didn't know why he did it. He didn't get any pleasure out of the act. He wasn't that stupid kid anymore--the one who ran around with his friends and caused little misdemeanors for a laugh. If he was going to do a crime, he might as well make it worthwhile. All this kid's play was pointless.

He caught sight of a lonely abandoned swing with a rusty chain to hold it up. It only had a wooden slab for a seat, but it did Drew just fine. He sat down and kicked himself off the ground in a wide arc. He sent an inquisitive glance in the direction of the nearest campfire. There was no sleeping gear--these were daytimers. Here just for the bonfire and the 'dogs.

There were a couple of families sitting about the fire, basking in it's warmth from their lawn chairs. There were two sets of adults, chatting amiably. There was a boy Drew recognized as Jim Goddard. His bright, carrot-topped head was hard to miss anywhere. He was a regular nerd, always staring off into space or dreaming up some rather bizarre world. He was a regular bully magnet--the bullies being Drew's own friends. He himself had given Jim a few swirlies over the years. It seemed rather pointless to Drew, seeing as Jim was such a skinny boy in the first place. There was no challenge in picking him up and dunking him in the toilet. But he had always been swayed by peer pressure.

Lizzie Shankton was also there. An old girlfriend of his. He liked her just about as little as he liked his current girlfriend. She was definitely a much better linguist and knew when to take her breaths. But her mind was vapid. Drew had once made the mistake of delving curiously inside. Life was all about boys and clothes and gymnastics and nothing deeper. She never thought about why the world was the way it was--and for that he held a certain disdainful contempt for her--even though reason told him such feelings were groundless. Stupid.

It was the last figure that he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of. He knew here well enough. Jim's sister: Clara Goddard. But in school, she always hid behind her long Auburn hair and loose-fitting clothes with a couple books clutched to her chest. Now, among her family and friends, she was in her element. Her hair was pulled back to show of her fine-boned features. Her eyes lit up at something her father was saying to her and she laughed. Drew was transfixed as her whole body shook with laughter.

He shook his head to clear his mind. He blinked and looked away. She was just the shy girl who walked passed him every week day at school. She was nothing special. But for that moment, she had been--like a nymph. No, a medieval princess, regal and beautiful. Her whole face lit up when she laughed. She glowed.

A slight breeze kicked up, blowing loose locks of hair free from the ponytail. He almost wished he was close enough so that he could brush the wisps of hair away from her face. It was a nearly undeniable urge.

You idiot, he told himself.

When had he, Drew Redfern, ever cared enough to help a girl get her hair out of her face? Girls were just an easy meal--a chance to feed and nothing more. He'd dated enough of them that he tired of relationships. Thinking of relationships, he was reminded of Dana, still slumped back in the car.

He sighed. He didn't want to go back. He knew he needed to anyway.

He took a slow stretch and stood from the swing. He couldn't help the irresistable urge to take one last glance in Clara's direction. He found a flush creeping up his cheeks and wanted to kick himself for it. He didn't blush. He was Drew Redfern. That was just a given.

Jim Goddard looked up, as if he somehow sensed Drew's eyes on them. He gave Drew a short and curious--slightly wary--glance. Drew returned the look with a dark on of his own. He turned his back to the group and headed up the dusty lane. He cut through the grass at the edge of the campsite and prepared himself for the short hike back up to the car.

When he got there, he sent a prompting to Dana's mind. _Wake up_.

Dana stretched lazily with a yawn. There was blessed silence while the yawn was taking place. As soon as it was over, Drew wished he could stopper his ears.

"Did I fall asleep? Oh my gosh," she giggled. "I swear I could fall asleep like anywhere. Like this one time when I was at the mall, and I fell asleep in the changeroom instead of trying on the outfits I'd picked out. So when the cashier came to knock on the door--I was so embarrassed. I'd been in there for like an hour--wait! Where are you going? I thought we were coming down here so that we could--well, get cosy for a while. Are you feeling sick again Drew? If you are, then I could give you like the most amazing back rub. I'm so good at giving back rubs. All my friends tell me so--"

"Dana," Drew said bluntly, cutting her off. "I think we need to break up."

For a moment, it was as if she hadn't even heard him. She just kept on chattering, but then her speech rumbled to a halt. She gasped and then her lip trembled. "B-but why? What did I do wrong? Am I talking too much? Because people always say I talk to much..."

Drew closed his eyes, driving from the imprint on the back of his lids for a moment as he gathered his bearings. He should have broken up with her just as he reached her house. This was going to be a long ride.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Drew slipped in the door, kicking off his boots. He slipped through the house, about to take a seat on the black leather couch. He didn't even care that the light wasn't on. He would have liked to just sit there in the dark and mull.

Now that he was broken up with Dana, he was free. He didn't really know what to do with himself. His ready supply of blood was gone. He'd have to find a new girlfriend fast—or just chase down a few dark alleys for the next couple of weeks. The thought of tapping into the veins of a dirty homeless person didn't sound all that great, but it was better than the alternative. He didn't know if he could stomach another girlfriend. He'd had one every month for the past two years and he was sick of it.

He was about to slump down to allow his mind to wander, but a sound caught his ears. The grandfather clock ticked audibly in the background, but there was another sound just within the threshold of hearing. It was the buzz of voices coming from the meeting room.

It was probably his dad, having a chat with some of the city counsellors. Marden Redfern was the local Night World authority for the San Fransisco district. It was his job to see that night world law was being enforced in the area. He was quite a bigwig—all chummy with the elders whenever they came for a visit.

He might as well give his pops a little hello.

Dad thought he was the less responsible of his two sons—which was probably true. But even Drew followed the two cardinal Night World rules to a tee. And if he decided to hijack a few cars along the way and drive them off bridges, more power to him.

Marden Redfern didn't really care that much about the destruction of human property—but he had a reputation to uphold. But Drew was careful enough. Besides, it wasn't as if his father didn't have the money and connections to make inquisitive policemen lose their interest.

He knocked lightly on the meeting room door. He wasn't technically supposed to bother his father when he was in the middle of his meetings, but Mr. Redfern rarely reprimanded him for breaking the rules. He ducked his head into the room.

"Hello fath—"

Drew stopped mid-sentence. Those were definitely not his father's counsellors. Of course, Rigby and Dross were there as well…and a couple of Night World elders. It was the woman who made him stop stalk still, the breath caught in her throat.

The woman turned to look at him her long glossy hair fell down her back. She was still letting off a throaty chuckle at something one of the elders had said. Her green eyes took him in appraisingly. A smile curved up her lips. With it, her eyes changed to glowing amber, reflecting the light in the room. Drew knew instinctively who she was and couldn't stop the soft gasp that escaped his lips.

"I'm sorry to interrupt!" He said quickly and apologetically. "I'll just go now so that you guys—and woman—can get on with your meeting."

As he was about to step out and shut the door, the woman lifted a hand to stop him. "Just a moment, grasshopper," her violet eyes twinkled. "You must be a Redfern. Drew if I'm not mistaken."

Drew was speechless, so surprised that she would even know his name. This was the first time he'd ever spoken to her in person. Sure, he'd seen her a few times…generally at Theirry's giant parties on the Solstice. It was a surprise that Theirry even allowed her on his grounds. Word had it that the two were worst enemies, although few people knew exactly why. But even Thierry was bound by propriety. No one, not even a powerful elder, could refuse to invite the head of the council to an event.

"Yes, that's me," Drew replied. He couldn't help the glow of pleasure.

"Sit," Maya suggested, draping her arm over the unoccupied chair next to her. She sent him an expectant glance. "We are not speaking on private matters tonight."

Drew sent his father a look and Marden Redfern nodded his acquiescence. Drew shut the door behind him and sat down at the chair to Maya's left. Her scent was flowery, almost intoxicating. He tried not to breathe too deeply so that it wouldn't short-circuit all of his senses. Maya wasn't only the first vampire to ever walk the earth, but she was also a very skilled witch. The ylang-ylang was emanating from her form to dance lazily in his nostrils. He tried to keep a clear mind.

"It's good to get your son involved in politics, don't you think?" Maya suggested to his father, her blood red, expertly manicured nails dropped to his shoulder. "Sooner or later, one of them will help to take over the family responsibilities. It's good to acclimate him into the trade."

"Yes, of course," Marden Redfern was saying with a strained smile.

Drew almost felt sorry for his dad. He was as affected by the ylang-ylang concoction as his son was. He was straining to keep up a business-like manner. At least Drew wasn't expected to keep up friendly chit-chat under such circumstances. He could just sit there in silence and listen if he chose. He supposed his father would prefer that—seeing as Marden didn't know what would come out of his son's mouth next. Contrary to his father's belief, Drew did have a fair idea on politics and diplomacy.

"We were just speaking on the new laws that need to be brought into effect," Maya was explaining to him, her eyes a forest green. There was inquisitiveness in her gaze, as if she were trying to read Drew. As if she were trying to size him up—find out what mettle he was made of.

"New laws?" Drew swallowed. His throat was dry.

"Yes," Maya was saying. "There has been a rash of made vampires showing up lately—much more than in previous years. I think the Night World Citizens are becoming lax. They just make any old bum off the street a vampire if they found out about the Night World. But we can't have that. It's too dangerous."

Drew nodded and made the mistake of breathing in too deeply. He blinked back the water that rushed to his eyes.

Maya seemed to realize what kind of effect she was having on him. She let out another throaty chuckle. "You didn't get something in your eye, did you?"

He shook his head, knowing she knew just as well as he.

"Anyway," Maya returned to her explanation. "Some of these made vampires are causing trouble—trouble that could expose our world. So we need to clamp down on the production of vampires. From now on, to make a human into a vampire, the night world petitioner must have an acceptance letter from one of the Night World elders, hunter, or myself."

"So what brings you here?" Drew asked.

His father sent him a warning look. He had no right to ask the head counsellor what her business was. He returned the look with an apologetic one. The only excuse he had to defend himself was that the ylang-ylang was taking over his senses.

Maya didn't seem offended in the least. She leaned back in her chair, examining her blood-red nails. "I thought it would be a good idea," she informed him, her silver-blue eyes looking out through half closed lids; "to speak to all the separate city counsellors myself. I thought it would help to bring a sense of community back to the Night World. The night people do pretty much what they please because our lack of enforcement. We have only two cardinal rules in the Night World and it's about time we banded together to make a stronger world. The human people aren't what they used to be. We need to adapt to fend them off."

Drew was still rather surprised that a dignitary such as herself would take the trouble. He was surprised that she wouldn't send Hunter to do the work. He was her main man. He took over council leader duties when she was off chasing after Theirry for various reasons. But it wasn't his job to question her motives.

"And I'm so glad you did come to visit," his father simpered. "It's been so long since I've had the honor to speak with you."

The expression on Maya's face told Drew that she didn't remember their last meeting. She smiled diplomatically. "It's always a pleasure. You will see to it that the new law is enforced in San Francisco?"

Marden Redfern's neck bowed in a nodded. "To the best of my ability."

"Good!" I smile curved up Maya's cheeks and reached her icy-grey eyes. "And you know what to do when the law has been broken?"

"Swift action will be taken," Marden replied.

Drew knew what that meant. The next person to break the law would be made an example. That person would die, to prevent further transgressions. Maya wanted to instil some fear back into Night World reign. Drew couldn't say that he disagreed. He was tired of the pansies who were worried about human rights and treatment. Humans were vermin and the Night People needed to remember that again.

Night people needed to remember the burning times. Humans were ignorant, stupid and intolerant. Night people weren't real, just cheesy characters out of bad horror films. There was no telling what humans would do when they found out that a night person existed.

What Drew couldn't figure out was why the face of a medieval princess kept playing through his mind. Her fine-boned face lifted with laughter. Could someone so beautiful be so stupid and intolerant?

Yes, he told himself. She could.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Relax and stop tugging at your skirt," Lizzie advised when she leaned in to hiss.

"It's too short," Clara responded, looking down at a fair amount of exposed thigh as she sat down in her desk. The skirt reached a few inches above her knees regularly, but hiked up a great deal when she sat down. It wasn't a soft gray or a cool blue either, but a daring red. She couldn't believe she'd let Lizzie talk her into this. Even the short-sleeved, sophisticated blouse she was wearing hugged a little too tight.

"Relax," Lizzie replied. "This is the first time I've ever got you the whole way to school wearing such a cute outfit. There's no way you're backing out now."

There was no way Clara could back out now. The teacher had just stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. Even if Clara had driven home ten minutes ago, she never would have made it back in time. And Clara was rarely late for class. She hated stepping in a couple minutes late because all the students would look up curiously and stare.

"A lot of boys were staring at you," Lizzie whispered before the teacher started her lecture.

Frankly, this didn't make Clara feel any better. It only made her feel even more self-conscious. She tried another tug on her skirt, but it didn't budge at all. She ignored the look of daggers that Lizzie was sending in her direction.

She couldn't wait until the class was over. She had her gym clothes in her locker—a pair of black shorts and a loose green tee-shirt. As soon as she was done in here, she could sneak away and change. Gym clothes were better than feeling exposed—even if people wondered why she was wearing her gym uniform all day.

As soon as the bell had rung, Clara hopped up out of her desk and hurried out of the door before Lizzie could protest. She hurried over to her locker and turned the combination lock.

"Clara!" A distinctly male voice spoke. "Is that you?"

Her heart-rate rose double, hearing his voice. She knew who it was even before she turned around. She couldn't believe that he was speaking to her again—especially after she'd made a fool of herself at the recreation center last night.

She turned slowly, hoping her nervousness didn't show on her face. She met his chin instead of his eyes. "Hi," was all she could manage to say coherently, so she snapped her mouth shut after the word.

"I just can't believe it's you!" Brakken said, giving her a friendly smile. "Hey, you look really great."

"Uh…thanks!" Her voice came out a lot louder than she intended. She winced.

He was nice enough to ignore her blunder. She had a direct view of his smile. "Hey, I was wondering…how good are you in trig?"

"Fine," she managed to squeak out. She wanted to smack herself for all her one-worders. She was totally making a fool out of herself. It was really sweet that he was ignoring her blunders. It was really sweet that he was talking to her at all.

"I was having a few problems with the unit circle equations—and our test's next week."

"I could help," she responded automatically, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

"Great!" She realized that his eyes were lit up because she'd finally managed to meet for more than a second. "That's exactly what I was hoping for. Do you want to come over to my house after school?"

"Sure."

"Do you know where it is?"

Clara nodded. Everyone knew where the Redfern house was. It was a small mansion that overlooked the hills. She'd seen it from a distance, but she'd never been in it. Lizzie had told her how beautiful it was on the inside. She'd never thought she'd get the chance to see it for herself.

"Great. I'll see you there. I have basketball practice right after school, but I should be there by four-thirty. Is that okay?"

She was still just nodding dumbly while wishing she could hit her head against the locker doors. Why couldn't she think of anything to say? She was just totally and completely speechless and it was so embarrassing.

Brakken moved away from her down the hallway with a final wave. She twirled to her locked and pulled it open. She rummaged through her belongings until she found her gym clothes. The nearest change rooms were the locker rooms next to the gym.

She moved down the side hall that would take her to the rear entrance from the gym. The students were starting to filter away into their classrooms. A boy who was lingering in the hall sent her a leering glance. She thought his name was Jordan but she couldn't be sure. He was one of Drew Redfern's gang—if they could even be called a gang.

"Clara Goddard," Jordan spoke in mock-surprise. "Who ever knew that all that was under those clothes you wear."

The comment turned her cheeks pink. She nodded politely and passed him, hoping that he'd leave her alone. He didn't.

He moved up behind her. "What's a girl like you doing skipping class? I thought your kind didn't do that sort of thing."

"I'm busy," was all she could think to say, and began to walk faster. She pushed through the double doors into the gym. It was empty. The students were all outside running to prepare for their two-mile timed exam. The gymnastics equipment was still set up from last unit.

The gym was empty.

Except for one student. A boy was sitting casually on the end of the pommel horse, rolling a note between his fingers. His longish, curly dark hair fell over his forehead. She knew who it was, even before his cold green eyes turned up to assess her. She knew him because of his angular features.

Great, she thought, her heart increasing. Jordan moved in the door behind her. She caught the amused and crafty look on his face when she turned to look back at him nervously. He looked like he was ready to stir up some trouble. Now she was stuck with Drew ahead of her and Jordan behind.

They probably planned this sort of thing. Jordan would wait in the hall for some unsuspecting student. He'd lure them into the gym…and then pounce. Clara didn't know what he planned, but his look said trouble. And Drew was in front of her to corner her in.

Drew was looking up now, still rolling the piece of paper between his fingers. He appeared to be more brooding than teasing at the moment. He looked almost surprised to see her. Something flickered in his eyes. He stood up, coming toward her from the other direction. His movements scared her—always did. He seemed to have the grace of a jungle cat. A _hunter_.

"Just leave me alone," she snapped to both of them.

"Did you hear that, Drew?" Jordan said. "She wants us to leave her alone!"

Drew responded with a dark, annoyed look. It was almost as if he viewed them as flies buzzing around his head. They'd disrupted his peace and he wanted them gone.

This was one of the reasons she'd always been so afraid of him. He was so moody and prone to dislike everything and everyone he saw. She felt a shiver pass through her shoulder blades. She was more afraid of him than she was of Jordan—even though Drew wasn't openly ridiculing her at the moment.

Drew sighed. "Jordan, I don't have time for this right now."

"What do you mean you don't have time? You don't have time to talk to a pretty girl? You always have time for that."

The boys were closing in from both directions. Clara held the clothes close to her chest and just stood there. She didn't know what else to do. She just stood there, almost shivering as she caught those cold look in Drew's eyes.

The boys had now locked her in. They were only a foot from her on either side.

"Come on, man," Jordan urged. "Have a little fun once and a while. Don't you remember the jokes we used to play? Doesn't any of that mean something to you anymore?"

"Sadly no," Drew replied with a deadpan expression.

"Don't you remember when we'd run down the hall, flipping up girl's skirts for fun? Didn't you get a kick out of that?"

Clara jumped away at this comment. It wasn't a moment too soon, because Jordan's fingers were darting for her hemline. "Don't!" She complained.

"What, you don't think it's funny?" Jordan darted for her again.

His hand stopped mid-light, caught by a bruising grip. He let out a loud cry as Drew twisted his fingers back effortlessly. Drew finally let go.

Clara stood shocked, staring between the two boys.

"Man, I think you broke my fingers!" Jordan cried out in outrage. "What did you do that for? I thought we were friends!"

"I didn't break your fingers," Drew replied, his face just as deadpan as ever. "But I will if you don't get out of here right now! I told you I didn't have time for this."

Jordan swore at him and headed for the double doors in a huff.

Clara looked at the final occupant of the room, standing no more than a foot away from her. She swallowed uncertainly. He probably wanted her to leave too. And she was only too happy to oblige.

She began to back away and stopped for a moment. She didn't know what she was still doing here. He looked over at her expectantly.

"Thanks," she managed. She was surprised to realize that she meant it.

"He didn't hurt you at all, did he?" Drew asked with a searching expression. It was almost unnerving the way he was looking at her. His eyes darted to take in her whole appearance and she found herself blushing again.

"No, he was just being a jerk." She found she could speak a full sentence to him without shying off. She revelled in the fact with surprise and delight. It was probably just because she was so frazzled by the event.

Drew smiled faintly. "When is he not?"

"Thanks," she said again and hurried off to the change rooms to the side of the gym. She ducked inside, armed with this new knowledge. If she could talk normally to his brother, she could talk to Brakken. She just had to allow herself to stop worrying about what she was saying every second.

She changed into the much more comfortable outfit and moved back out of the locker room, folding the clothing and setting it beside the door. Drew was still there, sitting on the pommel horse. He looked up when he heard her come out.

He actually smiled at her. "Late for gym?"

She shook her head. "Actually, I'm supposed to be in history right now."

"And you're skipping," Drew supplied.

"I just came here to change. I thought I could get back in time. I didn't think…" Clara realized that she was trying to explain herself to the one person in school who probably cared the least. He was skipping too…or he wouldn't be here brooding.

Drew tsk tsked. "Well, you can't very well go to class now—not without explaining to the teacher about why you're late."

He had a point. And there would be hall monitors roaming the halls no. She couldn't technically leave this gym until the bell rang. At least, if she didn't want to get caught. It would be a pity to ruin her seamless record now—just a week before the end of school.

Could she stand an hour with Drew in the gym? She was surprised to find she probably could. He just wanted to brood and would leave her well enough alone. She moved to the uneven bars. They were always her favorite anyway.

She started herself off in a tap swing, building up enough momentum to flip through the air and grab the higher bar. She began to move through her exercises that she practiced every week during her sessions with Ms. Dringer. She moved through them seamlessly until she reached the flyaway exercise. She moved through all the steps perfectly until the landing. As usual, she just barely caught herself.

She tried again, and the same thing happened.

"You know, if you keep your legs straight until the last moment before landing, you'd land smoother," Drew mentioned to her.

She looked up, surprised. She'd almost forgotten he was there. He was right. It was the exact same thing that her teacher kept telling her.

She looked up with a half smile, meeting his eyes. "I didn't know you knew anything about gymnastics!" she said.

His green eyes looked back, not cold and calculating as usual. Just solemn and a little curious. As soon as she met his eyes the smile died on her lips. She felt something throb within her chest. There was a faint buzzing in the air between them.

She knew one of them should be looking away about now. She swallowed dryly.

She felt as though she was being drawn toward him.

The bell rang loudly, waking her from her fuzzy state.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Drew slipped in the door, kicking off his muddy shoes. There was a clambering down the stairs and he looked up to see his father coming down at a half-run. Actually, the noise couldn't really be considered a clamber—it only sounded that way to Drew's sensitive ears.

"Another banquet?" Drew asked.

Marden Redfern nodded. "I have to keep up appearances. It's all part of the job." He slipped on a pair of loafers deftly.

Marden Redfern looked like any other good-looking middle aged man. The look suited him well. Drew had the feeling that Marden would keep this age for the next couple hundred years. He looked old enough to command, and yet young enough to avoid the wrinkles that would affect even a vampire who aged too much. His features were softer than Drew's. Brakken looked more like their father than Drew ever had.

"You're home already," Marden raised his eyebrows.

Drew shrugged and sat at the foot of the stairs. He had been feeling particularly anti-social lately. Besides, he couldn't go and hang out with Jordan after he'd twisted all his fingers. The stupid human—he found himself thinking vehemently and had to suppress the sharp thought. He didn't know why he'd hurt Jordan. Something about the way he had been harassing Clara had made his blood boil. Why he should give a care about some human girl was beyond him.

Why Clara still occupied a most of his attention even now...that was the real mystery. She was all he could think about for the rest of the day. He didn't even understand what had happened in the gym. She had justlooked so beautiful, so..._inhuman_.His eyes had been transfixed to her form as she had moved through the routines. She was so small and graceful—not like some regular human bumbling around on awkward feet. He had watched her every movement with a hunter's eye for agility.

And then she had landed funny. When she looked up to smile at him…something had happened. He couldn't explain it. It was as though the very air between them had become alive with electricity. He almost felt that if the bell hadn't interrupted them…they would have gone someplace else. They would have been in a place he didn't know existed.

He shook the thought from his brain. He must be going crazy.

"You're not going to get into any trouble tonight, are you?"

The words washed over him. For a moment, he didn't realize what his father had said. He looked up suddenly. "What? No."

"Good. Because Maya's still in town," Marden said with a warning look.

"Father? What's going on?" Drew asked, perturbed.

Marden sighed. "Exactly what she said, son. The Council is taking more direct control over the city-states."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Drew challenged.

His father sent him a condescending look, marked with warning. "It's got everything to you. Drew, I'm sorry, but you were born into the Redfern family. You have a certain duty to uphold family reputation. You have a certain duty to uphold family reputation. You have a duty to our family and to me."

Drew sighed and stood up. He didn't want another one of his father's you-have-a-duty-to-this-family-so-start-acting-like-it speeches. "So what if the council is taking more control? This has to do with made vampires. We're part of a lamia family…and I am not, and will never make a human into a vampire. So this new law will have no effect on our family."

"You don't seem to understand the underlying message," his father grated. He sent Drew a hard look. "That visit wasn't just about bringing the city-states together. That visit was aboutintimidation. She was reminding me of my duty as city Governor. If you set a toe out of line, it reflects on me."

"The Night People don't care about humans!" Drew protested. "Nowhere in the laws does it ever say that I can't play with them—use them. They're not real people anyway—just pets. Playthings."

"Yes, and I am proud of you for continuing to believe that. Your brother has become a little softer than I would have wished. He sympathizes with humans too much. But you—I'm proud that you can make the distinction between people and vermin," Marden explained, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "I just wish that you would throw out those no good friends of yours and take your place in the family. I need you to stop with all the pointless vandalism and learn to be a real Redfern. I need you to help uphold Night World law."

Drew folded his arms across his chest and looked at his father. He was actually surprised by this speech. Usually, father praised Brakken non-stop while he got all the complaints. "And this is what you really think?"

"This is what I really think," Marden returned.

"Why haven't yousaid anything about this before?" Drew questioned. "Why did you always try to make me more like Brakken?"

"Because I do want you to be like Brakken." His father spoke with irritation in his voice. "Don't you understand? Brakken has a seamless record. Everybody loves him because he's always doing the right thing. No one would ever suspect what he really is. That is what I want you to be—just don't lose your ideals along the way."

"Why are you telling me this now—after all this time?" Drew asked suspiciously.

"Because I want to get rid of Rigby and make you one of my counsellors. You'll be graduating soon. It's your rightful spot as an heir in the family."

Drew leaned into the banister, his mind floundering with all this new information. Of course—it wasn't really new. He'd known his father would want him to take some charge someday. But now? It was all happening too he go off and party for a few years—maybe go to college? He'd never really cared enough to be a leader. It had never been his thing.

"What if I don't want to get into politics?" Hesuggested. His voice soundedstrained, even to his own ears. "What if all this isn't for me? Couldn't you train Brakken instead? I think he'd like it. He's been class president for the last for years, so this wouldn't be any different for him."

"I intend to make Brakken my other counsellor," Marden responded, tapping his foot impatiently. He looked at his watch. "Drew, do you think we could continue our little conversation later? I have a meeting to get too, and I'm running a little late…"

His father buttoned up his suit coat as he was speaking.

"I don't want to take it," Drew replied softly but stubbornly. He slowly got to his feet, standing a couple inches taller than his father. He and Brakken had both outgrown their father a couple years ago--but Drew had the real advantage in height.

For a moment, he thought he had spoken too softly for his father to hear. But Marden's fingers stilled on the button he was working on. His voice was quiet—his features deadpan—but there was a steel core running beneath his words. "What did you say?"

"I said I don't want to take the position," Drew said again, this time a little louder. He stood up to face his father.

"What if I said I needed you to take the position?" Marden suggested, his blue eyes flashing with silver light.

"You don't. Rigby's been a good counsellor." Drew smirked. He was used to these what-if mind games with his father. They were nothing new. "You just always expected me to jump into the minor position below you."

"It's my right," Marden responded to the challenge in Drew's voice. "I've been here much longer than you have…about two hundred years to be exact. I should take the position of seniority. Would you try tosteal itfrom me?"

Drew laughed softly. He knew he'd gotten a rise out of his father. "No," he said seriously and soberly. "I wouldn't take the position away from you. You know I've never wanted to rule. Then again, I've never wanted to be ruled either."

"There is no good solution in anarchy," his father replied.

"Dad," Drew replied, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sick and tired of politics. It's all I've heard growing up. Sure, I'm glad that there's no anarchy—but I don't want to be involved with rule either. I've never cared about politics and _you know it_."

Drew emphasized the last part of it.

Marden looked at his watch again with a sigh. "You know you have to enter the family trade someday. You have no choice in the matter."

"But you're going to give me a couple years—to go to college." Drew suggested.

Marden snorted. "You've never applied to college. You've never cared about school."

"You can't make me," there was an underlying violence in both their voices.

Marden flipped a shiny card from his pocket and let it dance in the light that fell from the chandelier. "I could cut you off," he suggested menacingly.

Drew's eyes dropped down to the credit card and he shrugged. He was the vision of indifference. Inside, he felt a little perturbed. His father had never threatened to take away his access from the credit card before. He'd always been given everything he wanted and more. He knew he was a spoiled brat and revelled in that fact. The idea that his father would take that away bugged him.

Logically, he knew he didn't need the money. He had friends--connections. He could find a well-paying job to take care of his needs. Reed had made him an offer just today. The paper was still sitting in his pocket, burning a hole. Drew didn't even know why he had been contemplating the offer for so long. Something about it just bugged him.

"And?" Drew asked, feining ignorance. "Your point is?"

"You will take your spot in the family," his father growled.

Drew snorted in return.

With an impatientsigh, Marden glanced at his watch. He looked back up at his son with an exasperated glance. He pointed a stiff finger in Drew's direction. "We'll talk about this later." He barked

"Never is too soon for me," Drew replied, folding his arms across his chest.

Drew twiddled his fingers in a good-bye gesture. He was not looking forward to the repeat of this discussion. It wouldn't happen for another couple of weeks. His fatherrarely had time for what he called their "heart to heart"s. In the meantime, Drew would have to think of a more intelligent way to dispute his father's point of view. Brute denial never worked with the old man.Maybe he would apply for college—if he could get in. It would get his father off his back for a couple of years anyway.

"You're going to be late for that banquet."

His father grumbled and hurried out the door, nearly slamming it behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Drew leaned back into the staircase. He took a long and relieved breath. Why did he have to be born a Redfern? Why? He would have been better off being born vermin.

He snorted at the thought, know he didn't believe it.

There was a knock at the door.

Drew grumbled slightly and got to his feet. He moved to the door, pulling it open. Whoever it was, better have something important to say, because he really wasn't in the mood to entertain.

The door slid open to reveal a fine-boned girl with a lank of auburn hair and a regal features. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

His heartbeat began to pick up speed.

"Clara," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Clara didn't know what she expected to see when the door swung open. The one thing she wasn't expecting to see was Drew Redfern. That's not to say she hadn't thought about him since their encounter in the gym. She'd thought of him plenty. She'd thought about how stupid she'd been to feel so comfortable around him. This was a guy who stole cars for kicks and drove them off bridges for god's sake. He was not a nice person. So he had done her an act of kindness, and for reasons she couldn't fathom. That didn't mean the kindness would continue. She would do well to keep far away from him.

Because if she didn't, she had a troubled and horrible premonition that she might start falling for him--and that was rediculous. She didn't fall for mean boys. But there was no denying how her heart rate increased when the door opened to reveal his angular features and mop of curly dark hair. It sent the blood rushing through her veins and made her feel slightly euphoric.

Well of course he'd be at his house! Oh how she wished Brakken had been the one to come to the door. Just looking at Drew was making her become jittery and frazzled in a way that Brakken had never made her feel. Instead of feeling shy and wracking her brains for something to say--Drew was having the opposite effect on her. She was worried that if she allowed her jaw to become unhinged, she might not be able to stop talking. And she'd probably send him into a state of moody irritation.

"Hey," she managed without becoming overly verbose. "I'm here to see your brother."

"My brother," Drew repeated, nonplussed. Something flashed through his eyes.

"Yeah. To help him with his math."

Drew snorted derisively. There was no brotherly affection in his statement. "My brother doesn't have a problem with math. He doesn't have a problem with anything."

Clara bit her lip, not knowing quite how to reply. Brakken had asked for her help and now she was here. But it seemed as if she had one very testy sentinel to pass to get into the house. She had the weirdest urge to turn around and walk away as she caught a glint of light in Drew's eye. An almost territorial glint--like a hunter. She fought the urge to run. "Uhh," she said. "Can I come in?"

It was almost as if she had aroused him out of some far off state. He blinked. "What? Oh. Yeah."

Drew leaned against the door as he moved backward in an arc, allowing her room to pass. She nearly brushed against him as she moved into the grand hall. She felt the hair rise on her left arm and goosebumps arose. She would have liked to say that the reaction came because of the gorgeous room that she had stepped into. She knew it was just the opposite. Drew's arm had brushed so close that she could almost feel the heat of his skin.

She looked around in awe. The floors were all in a beautiful cherry wood color with a fancy throw rug placed in the giant living room beyond. A lofty grandfather clock took it's spot against the one wall, surrounded by bookcases. Leather couches were placed about the room and there were two coffee tables with glass panes sitting in front of the larger couches.

She thought of the dust on her shoes making imprints in the floor. She began to take them off to place them on the welcome mat.

"You don't have to do that," Drew was saying.

She did so anyway and looked at Drew expectantly. She didn't really know what to do. It almost felt presumptuous to go and take a seat at the couch without his permission. "Is Brakken here?" she asked.

Drew shook his head. "I think he's still at basketball practice. It has the tendency to run over."

There was a silence. Clara found her cheeks heating up because Drew couldn't seem to stop looking at her. Finally, he seemed to catch himself. "Oh, sorry," he said. "Why don't you sit down?"

Clara moved over to the nearest couch, falling back into its folds. She hoped that Brakken would arrive soon. She was starting to feel a faint buzzing again and she was worried where the feeling was heading. No, she decided, it wasn't a buzzing. It was a humming. She could almost see a silver cord connected to her chest...tugging. Now she was the one acting weird. She must be going absolutely crazy.

Clara swallowed and smiled faintly, trying to hide the weird feelings rising in her.

"Oh, hey!" he said, suddenly realizing himself. "Would you like something to drink? Some coke? Some juice?"

"Um, juice would be fine," Clara replied in a slightly distracted voice. She couldn't seem to ignore the buzzing in her ears or the strange tugging in her chest. It felt as though she was ballooning or something was lodged near her heart. The urge to start talking arose in her again. If she didn't do something--anything--to overide the buzzing, then something was going to happen. She didn't know what, but something.

Thankfully, Drew took that moment to turn around and move into the adjoining kitchen. She hear rummaging noises and the hum of a fridge. The buzzing seemed to receed the moment he moved out of sight. It didn't leave entirely, but at least she was able to take a deep breath and push it to the back of her mind.

Drew came back into the room, carrying a bottle of Fruitopia.

"So," he said as he began moving toward her. "You're a gymnast like Lizzie."

Clara shrugged and then her voice began to spill forth. She couldn't deny it any longer. "Yeah. I've always loved gymnastics. Especially the uneven bars. When I get up there, I get lost in the motion. It's like I'm in some other world. For once I'm not me."

She winced, expecting to see a moody expression cross his face. She'd heard many accounts from other people about Drew. They had all said he had little tolerance for incessant prattle. But she couldn't seem to stop talking. And she was telling him really personal stuff that she'd never really shared with anyone.

Drew's lip quirked in a half smile. "On the contrary. I'd never seen you look more like you in your life. You were finally able to let go and be yourself. You looked beautiful."

Clara felt her eyes widen in surprise. And not only because he'd called her beautiful, but because he was being completely sociable and amiable. This couldn't be real. She knew what people said about him.

She found herself feeling flattered. She liked the fact that Drew thought she was beautiful.

"Thanks," she said. "You seem to know a lot about the subject. You knew exactly how I should land. You know a lot about the technique. You're not a gymnast are you? Because I never really took you to be that kind of guy. Sorry!"

Drew frowned. "Sorry for what?"

"For..." Clara floundered at her own meaning. "For talking so much. I heard..."

Clara snapped her mouth shut. She knew she didn't want to finish that sentence in case what she said offended Drew. He didn't seem like the kind of guy she wanted to offend. It wasn't that she was worried about him hurting her. She'd never heard of him hurting a girl...sure, he had played some stupid and cruel jokes...but never hurt. Although she remembered some rather brutal school fights between Drew and other guys. Drew was a lot stronger than he looked. What she worried about was seeing anger within his features. She found that she cared what he thought. She cared a whole lot more than she would have expected.

"Go right ahead," Drew said, noting her pause. She knew that he had caught on to what she had been about to say. He ignored her blunder, taking no offense. "You can talk all you want. And in answer to your question, no. I hardly know anything about gymnastics. But I generally like sports--especially technique. I like to watch movement. I don't know why."

His expression told her he knew exactly why. But he wasn't going to divulge that information. She got a strange shiver between her shoulder blades. Again, she as she looked at him and could think only one word: hunter. Maybe it was his wild side that she was sensing--the bad boy in him. All she knew was that it scared her. She hoped Brakken would show up soon.

"So why aren't you on any of the teams in school?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I don't play well with others. I like individual sports."

"Oh!" He said, seeming to remember that he was still carrying the bottle of juice in his hand. He reached out to hand it to her. "Look at me just standing her for five minutes holding your juice. I'm not being a good host."

Clara found it amusing that he was trying to be a good host. Drew Redfern showing pleasantries.

He smirked as if he could see the irony of her thoughts. But that was silly. He couldn't read her mind. There was no such thing. But for some reason, the suspicion stuck with her. He and Brakken both seemed to have this uncanny ability to read people. It was like she was an open book at times. Maybe she had a more expressive face than she thought.

She reached out for the bottle, feeling the cool wet feeling in her hand.

"Thank yo--" she never finished because her fingers brushed hers.

There was the crackle of electricity exchanged between them. Suddenly the balloon in her chest seemed to expand double the size. Her muscles trembled. She could see her own shock reflected in his eyes. Something inside of her was boring through the seperation that keeps people apart.

"Clara--" Drew managed on a breath of air.

Oh no, please, I don't want this! Clara thought. Whatever was happening...she was scared of it. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life and it was about to get a lot worse. He moved his hand to clasp hers and the bottle fell to the floor. He was bowing slightly as if he was having a hard time holding up his weight. With every second the barrier between them was being drilled apart.

He was so close...their souls almost touching.

Please no, she thought again.

"It's okay," Drew whispered, reaching out to brush the hair away from her forehead with a damp cool hand. His expression told her otherwise. He was as terrified as her. The only difference was that he wasn't fighting it. His body was falling toward hers.

"Drew," she choked out.

The barrier was almost gone. It was only a frail veil between them. Whatever had been building between them was going to happen in only a moment.

The front door crashed open and they sprang apart, the moment lost.


	7. Chapter 7

**Question: Does anyone know how Bracken/Brakken is spelled? I don't have a copy of Huntress handy, so I might be mispelling!**

**Thanks to Kalika Scott, JRepG, Ande, Perceive, and Kat for their reviews on Chapter 6!**

**Kat: Yes, Jez will make an appearance in the story. Morgead, on the other hand, will not.**

**JRepG: Of course I left the chapter like that! It's my job to keep you on the edge of your seat! Trust me, if you read LJ Smith, you will not be disappointed. My writing doesn't hold a candle to LJ Smith's. But thanks for the compliment. I would suggest you start of with the Night World Series, but sadly, they're out of print. So my next suggestion is Dark Visions because it's one of my absolute favorites. Next I would suggest Secret Circle. Also, Vampire Diaries and Forbidden Game are really good if you can get your hands on them. The four Vampire Diaries books may be out of print too because they were written back in the early 1990's. I haven't really checked because I have them all. But I know for a fact that most of the Night World Series is out of print--they're making a comeback though (they should have them reprinted with new covers at the end of 2006)--because I lost my copy of Daughters of Darkness while I was moving to a new house. I was devastated--no seriously. Wow, you really ought to give me an e-mail adress so I don't write these giant e-mails at the start of my chapters! Heehee.**

**Sorry y'all! There is a story beneath all this writing.**

**Chapter 7**

They sprang apart. Clara found herself standing on jellied legs.

She quickly bent to pick up the bottle in order to hide her embarrassment. Her cheeks were flaming. She only hoped they weren't as red by the time she straightened herself. She pretended to fumble for the bottle a little. A hand reached down to help her, and their fingers touched again. It was like touching a hot wire. The buzz was still in the background of her mind, trying to bring back the nearly shattered connection. She fought it, her hand snapping back from his touch. They both straightened.

Drew handed her the bottle. She took it, being very careful to keep her fingers away from his.

Her heart was pumping double time. She swallowed hard. What was this anyway? What had just happened to her?

Brakken strode into the room, whistling. He took no thought for his dusty shoes the way Clara had. They probably had a house cleaning lady to come in after them, Clara thought. Her parents would be furious if she stepped across such a beautiful and ornate rug with dirty shoes. She didn't even know why she was thinking about shoes right then. Probably because she was afraid of looking Brakken in the face. She was afraid he knew what had happened between her and Drew.

She steeled herself and looked up. Brakken was smiling in his general and friendly way. He was wearing a slightly sweaty jersey and a pair of basketball shorts. She had to admit, that even like this, Brakken looked hot. He seemed to be completely oblivious to what had just happened between them.

She let out a breath that she hadn't known she was holding. She and Drew sent each other guilty glances.

"Clara!" Brakken mentioned, looking down at himself. He pulled a hand through his rumpled hair. "I'll be right back. I just have to go and change."

Clara found herself nodding like a puppet on a string. Her cheek muscles were getting another work out from smiling so much. She couldn't seem to help herself. It was almost as if she expected the smile to draw attention away from her red cheeks.

Brakken pointed his finger at his brother as he was leaving the room. The comment was only half-joking. There was an underlying thread of steel in Brakken's words. "Don't scare away the company."

It was clear to see that the brothers didn't get along very well.

Drew only smirked. The funny thing was that he actually looked like he wanted to scare away the company. He looked like he wanted to bundle her up and rush her out the door. Nowhere was to far from this house for Drew. He looked like he would fly her to the moon if it would keep her away from Brakken.

There was that territorial light in his eyes again. She definitely wasn't dreaming it up this time. And what had happened between them was no dream--it had been real. Clara didn't know what it was but she knew one thing: She hadn't dreamed it up. It was the singlemost real moment in her life.

"You should leave," Drew suggested as soon as Brakken had left the room.

"What?" She asked, feeling frazzled and confused.

"You should leave," Drew repeated. "Brakken doesn't have any problems with his math. He's never had problems with it."

What was he suggesting? And why did he have to be so dang vague about it? Why couldn't he just come out and say what he meant?

"What are you talking about?" She asked, swallowing. It did little good because her throat was so dry.

Drew gave her an exasperated glance. He was starting to get into one of his moody states. "Look, I can't explain it to you, okay? Just go. Just trust me and leave."

Clara frowned at him. This was the chance of a lifetime. She'd never get the chance to be this close to Brakken again. Could she really just up and leave. Then again, this was Drew's house too. It would be rather presumptuous of her to refuse to leave the property.

She felt a strange irritation in her. She wasn't the type to argue, but she felt like it just now. Who was Drew to insult her intelligence? Of course he could explain something to her and she would understand.

"Drew…" She didn't really know how to say what was thinking.

He put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around and try to guide her toward the door. The warmth of his hands seemed to penetrate through the cloth and seep into her skin. The balloon in her chest threatened to double again. Clara jumped back from his touch.

Drew was looking down at his hands as if they were betraying him.

"Please don't do that," Clara managed.

"Sorry," he responded, dropping his hands to his sides. She looked up at her and she had no reason to suspect that he was lying. This was all as new to him as it was to her. "I'm not meaning to—I mean…this isn't me. I'm not doing this. It's just sort of happening."

She nodded, biting her lip.

His look was pleading. "Clara, just go. Please leave."

There was just something so urgent in his expression that she had to comply. She nodded, goose bumps arising on her skin once more. She moved into the entrance and began to stuff her shoes onto her feet. They weren't complying very well with her jittery fingers. She was finally able to jam one of them one her feet and tie the shoelace. She almost felt like a kindergartener who was still learning to put her shoes on.

Brakken came thumping down the stairs at a jog. He was now dressed in a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt and—as good-looking as he had been before in his basketball uniform; he now looked ten times better. It wasn't until that moment that Clara noticed how much larger Brakken was than his brother. He was shorter by about an inch, but definitely more built with baby blue eyes to die for. His features were so much smoother and less accentuated. He was clearly the better looking of the two brothers—although Drew definitely had features to gawk at. But at that moment, he didn't hold a candle to Drew. Drew's mouth was so much more sensuous, his cheeks so defined in the light that fell from the chandelier.

The smile on Brakken's face slipped when he realized what she was doing. "What's going on?" He asked, turning from Clara to Drew.

"I'm going," Clara said, stuffing the other shoe on her foot. She yanked on the laces and tied quickly, straightening. She sent Brakken an apologetic glance.

Brakken, in turn, sent his brother a dark look. Brakken turned back to her, a sympathetic light in his blue eyes. He hopped down the landing from the second step, where he'd been resting against the banister with a confused glance. To Clara's surprise, Brakken began to stuff his own shoes on his feet.

"I'll drive you," Brakken suggested.

"It's all right," Clara replied. "I've got my car out front."

Brakken shrugged into a jacket and helped to guide her out the door, ignoring her protest. Clara didn't look back at Drew because she knew the expression she'd see on his face. She didn't think she could face the disappointment in his eyes.

She didn't even understand why she was all nervous and jittery. Drew had a really strange effect on her sometimes. She really wished that she could understand him sometimes. He was just so unfathomable—so… She couldn't think of the right phrase to coin him. All she knew was that he drove her nuts sometimes.

As soon as the door was firmly shut behind them, Brakken turned her around. He looked at her searchingly. "Are you okay?"

"I—" Clara's hands waved in floundering gestures. She wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that statement. She was finally able to finish what she had been trying to say, "I—well, yes."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" Brakken asked. "Did he play another one of his stupid jokes on you?"

"I—don't know." Is that what it had been? A joke? There was no reason for her to fear Brakken. He was one of the sweetest guys in school—and yet, for a moment she had actually believed Drew. She couldn't believe that she had fallen for that. He had been so nice to her…and all so that he could get her to believe him.

"The nerve of him," she muttered.

"Don't worry about him," Brakken said kindly. "He can be a jerk sometimes."

Clara took a deep breath and nodded. Somehow…realizing it was all a joke didn't seem to help her frazzled nerves much. Her emotions were all scattered and confused. Drew had felt the connection—she knew he had. So why would he be so heartless as to play a joke on her just then? Because he knew she was nervous and jittery and he could get a rise out of her?

He was exactly what everyone else said he was. She couldn't believe that she had begun to convince herself differently.

A soft breeze blew over the front porch, pushing her hair into her face, catching in her eyelashes. Brakken reached out and brushed it aside. Clara's heart thumped oddly. She couldn't believe that this was happening. To her of all people. Sure, she'd had a crush on Brakken forever, but she had never expected anything to come of it. Hold your horses, she told herself. Nothing has come of it. He's probably just trying to comfort you. He feels bad about what Drew did.

Brakken's hand rested there for a moment before it dropped.

"Are you okay?" He pressed again. "I mean, really okay?"

"I think I am," Clara managed coherently. "I just…I don't know. He almost had me convinced…"

"I never would have brought you here if I thought he'd been home," Brakken said, trying to reassure her. There was a troubled look in his eyes, as if he were trying to figure something out. "He's usually out getting into trouble until the wee hours of the morning. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Clara said. "I'm fine. Maybe I should just go."

"Wait," Brakken said, reaching his hand out to her shoulder just as she was about to turn. "Let me take you for a drive. You shouldn't be behind the wheel like this. We can go out and get some ice cream or something. When you've calmed down a bit, I can bring you back to your car."

Clara bit her lip. How could she refuse an offer like this? She might never get another one. Slowly, she nodded, feeling shy. "Okay."

Brakken grinned and they headed down the steps together. "My vehicle is the truck," he said, nodding to the shiny vehicle to the left of Drew's bright red sports car.

"I know," she said before she could stop herself. She shut her mouth, cursing silently. He's going to think you're a stalker or something, she scolded herself silently. But it's not as if every other girl in school didn't know exactly which car was Brakken's. That was common knowledge.

Brakken opened the door for her and she stepped in, hardly believing any of this was real. He shut the door behind her. She only had a few moments leeway before he opened the door on the other side. She let out a tiny little girlish squeal, feeling like an idiot for doing so. She clamped her lips together and began to place the seatbelt around her waist the moment the other door opened.

Brakken got in and started the car. She thought he was going to take her to the little ice cream shop just a few blocks away, but instead he turned down an old gravel road. The rocks grumbled under the car wheels.

"Where are we going?" Clara asked.

Brakken turned off to the side of the road once they were completely concealed within the hills. He shut off the engine and turned to look at her.

"What's going on?" Clara asked nervously.

"Look, I had to talk to you," Brakken said, turning to face her in his seat. He took off the seatbelt so that he was better situated. "I don't know if you know Drew all that well—sure, I'm sure you've heard stories, but you don't know the half of it. He's a dangerous person, Clara. I want you to stay away from him. For your safety."

Clara's breath caught in her throat. When she was finally able to talk again, she said. "What kind of things has he done?"

Brakken looked down guardedly, the lids drooping over his baby blues slightly. "I'm not supposed to talk about it," he said. "Father won't let me. Look—I just don't want you to get hurt. I'd hate to see that happen. Because," he looked up at her. "I really think you're kind of special."

Clara's stomach churned with pleasure and disappointment at the same time. She wasn't sure what she was feeling at the moment. She knew he must be right about Drew. No one would know better than his own brother. She didn't even know why it bothered her so much. She should be excited just to have Brakken looking at her like that—and it did. But there was an underlying pit of unease.

Brakken was moving toward her. He eyes widened to take him in and her heart began to race. She realized all the sudden that he was going to kiss her.

Without warning, the world began to fade. She fell into a black void.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to End-of-ur-world and Dulce Ambrosia for their reviews on the last chapter**

**Chapter 8**

Drew couldn't sleep. He'd doze off for a couple of minutes, only to wake up finding his sheets in a tangle at the end of his bed. He sighed and rose to his feet with a hunters grace and began to pace the floor. Brakken still wasn't home yet. Don't be an idiot, he told himself. Of course Brakken wasn't home yet. Drew had gone to bed early for lack of a better thing to do. It seemed as if sleeping was the only thing that could deter him from this frenzied state--and yet he couldn't sleep.

He began to pace across the floor, his footsteps brushing the carpet softly. If he didn't have inhuman hearing, he never would have heard each step as it whispered across the carpet. He could have continued this for hours, wearing the carpet thin if a noise hadn't caught his ears; the soft click of the door being shut on the floor beneath.

Drew left his room and hurried down the hall to the stairwell. He didn't know exactly what he was going to do when he found his brother--he just knew that he would do something. The primary vision in his mind was an image of Drew throttling his brother. He had lots of rather violent images in his head--most of which he would never act on but dearly would have like to at that moment.

When Drew finally did reach the stairwell, a deathly calm had settled over him.

Brakken was kicking off his running shoes, completely unaware of the brother staring down at him. Drew slipped down the stairs. Brakken looked up when Drew was no more than a foot away.

"Hey--"

Drew didn't give him the chance to finish. He gripped Brakken by the front of his t-shirt and slammed him into the wall. He expected Brakken to fight back, but he only looked at Drew with disbelief and anger.

"What do you think you're doing?" Brakken snapped.

"Did you bite her?" Drew asked, gripping Brakken's shirt with white knuckles. He totally ignored Brakken's question. He needed to know--even if the truth hurt him. He was pretty sure that Brakken had.

Brakken tried to shove him off but Drew was too angry to be pushed. He reluctantly gave up, giving Drew the look of a cornered animal. His eyes flashed silver-blue in the moonlight pooling from the one window. Drew knew that he was only waiting for a single instant when Drew's guard was down--then he would attack.

"What do you care?" Brakken asked.

"Just answer the question," Drew replied through gritted teeth.

"Was she your next girlfriend in line?" Brakken sneered in a taunting voice.

Drew knew what he was up to. He didn't fall for it. He kept his senses outward, focusing only half his attention on Brakken's words. The rest of his attention was spent elsewhere, watching the tenseness in Brakken's muscles, watching his little movements. He wouldn't allow his brother to win this fight by becoming distracted.

"You can't have everyone, Drew," Brakken told him. "You've probably dated over half the girls in school--and when I choose one that you were planning to go for--you can't take it. You're so territorial. You always have been. I mean, it's just food. One girl is as good as the rest."

"Did you or did you not bite her!"

"Yes," Brakken snapped, his shoulders tense. "I bit her. And she tasted good. Why shouldn't I? Ever since I broke up with Jen I've had to find my meals on the street. I'm getting tired of it. She was easy prey because she was attracted to me. She would have fallen all over her feet for me. I would've been a fool not to take advantage of that fact."

"I could kill you right now," Drew hissed.

"But you won't," Brakken replied with a raised eyebrow and an incredulous glance. "You wouldn't have the guts. Drew the bad boy...but not as bad as you'd like to believe, are you?"

"Why Clara?" Drew didn't loosen his hold. "You could have had any girl in school. Why her?"

Brakken shrugged. "Why not her?"

"You don't deserve her," Drew ground out. "She's just food to you. You won't treat her well enough."

Brakken snorted. "I treat my girlfriends far better than you, brother. Or have you forgotten? I don't break up with them every time they talk too much and only grumble and act moody when I'm around them. She's better off without you."

The words hit home. Drew let go of the front of his brother's shirt with a dark look. He turned away from his brother, leaving his back exposed but his ears were tense for the sound of movement. Drew rubbed at his eyes. They were stinging with fatigue. He hadn't gotten much sleep in the past couple of weeks.

He heard the rush of air, but didn't move to avoid the blow. It wasn't a hard hit, just a dull thunk on the back of his head—Brakken's way of showing that he was miffed.

Drew slumped into the couch, the fight leaving him. He didn't know why he cared so much anyway. Clara was just a human. And yet it boiled his blood to even think of his brother sinking his teeth into her neck. He was more than angry—he was jealous. Clara and he had connected somehow. He didn't really understand it himself. But he found he didn't want anyone else to ever get that close to her—least of all his brother. Not to mention that taking her blood for food was just wrong. It was like a crime. And there were so many girls out there that Brakken could take—ones that Drew didn't care about.

"Why do you care?" Brakken's voice was so calm; so casual as he voiced Drew's very thoughts. But there was an underlying thread in his voice. A thread of warning. "Don't tell me that you're becoming...attatched...to a human."

"Of course not!" Drew snapped out defensively.

Brakken strode toward him . It was dark, but Drew could make out his every feature. His face was lined with suspicion and another emotion that Drew couldn't place. "You are, aren't you?"

"Don't be stupid," Drew replied.

"Oh, I'm far from stupid," Brakken said, choosing the couch opposite Drew. He looked almost lazy the way he leaned back into the folds of the couch. Drew wasn't fooled. "You weren't playing a practical joke on her this afternoon, were you? You were trying to keep her away from me."

Drew only glared. He'd already given himself away. There was no point in denying it. There was no point in admitting it either. So Drew just settled for a dark look instead. His muscles were tense and his jaw clenched.

Brakken tsked condescendingly. "Too late now."

"What's too late?" Drew asked, the blood draining from his face. He forgot to hold his silence. "What did you do to her?"

Brakken raised another eyebrow to show he'd noticed Drew's blunder. He leaned forward in his seat, propping his elbows against his knees. "What did I say, you mean?"

"All right," Drew growled, weary of the word games. He sighed. "What did you say?"

"I told her that you were dangerous. That you'd done things that I couldn't speak about. I told her that she should keep away from you to be safe." Brakken said with a shrug.

Drew swore. "How could you?"

They both knew that Brakken's claims were groundless. Drew had never done anything as dangerous or criminal as Brakken was suggesting. He was starting to regret all the things he had done. He could only imagine what Clara must think of him. He couldn't stand the thought that she might be afraid of him--and that she might now detest him.

"You never seemed to mind when I embellished your bad boy reputation before," Brakken responded. "You actually seemed to like the idea. Why should now be any different?"

"Unless..." Brakken added in a deadly calm voice. "Unless you're in love with her."

"Don't be silly," Drew replied in a strained voice. His heart beat had just kicked up double time. Of course he wasn't in love with her. He hardly knew her. And yet, he was acting like a guilty culprit. He looked to the floor.

Brakken knew how to read his brother well. Drew was rarely able to hide anything from him for long. Brakken folded his arms across his chest and fixed his brother with an unnerving. "Good. Make sure your feelings stay that way. I'd hate for the authorities to pick you up. The sentence for falling in love with a human is death."

Drew's head snapped up from where his eyes had been wandering across the carpet sleepily. He upraised his brother with a searching look, his words laced with menace. "Is that a threat?"

"Hardly," Brakken snorted. "Just a concerned brother."

Drew wasn't sure he could trust him.

"All the same," Brakken added, stretching. His words became obstructed by a yawn. "I think I'd better keep tabs on her. I wouldn't want to see you get into trouble."

"It's none of you business," Drew snapped, realizing just what kind of power Brakken held. He knew what Brakken could do to him if he wanted. Now he was feeling like the cornered animal. All he wanted to do was to lash out. But he knew it would make little difference.

Brakken neither agreed nor disagreed. He was only eying Drew with another curious glance.

"What are you looking at?" Drew said moodily.

"You," Brakken replied. "I used to think that dad was going crazy. There was no way it could be true. But maybe he was right about you."

"Right about what?"

"He said," Brakken cleared his throat and began to divulge the information without a wince or even an apologetic glance. "That you had grown up too soft. He said that you were too likely to get lost in human culture and forget your place."

Drew's eyes widened, wondering at his father's meaning. He couldn't quite fathom what Marden was up to. "Funny," he said in a half-whisper, musing. "He said almost the exact same thing about you."

"Don't lie," Brakken snorted. "I know what you're trying to do and it won't work. You can't make me angry at dad."

Brakken got up and walked away.


	9. Chapter 9

**So I checked Huntress and Bracken doesn't have to K's. Sorry for the misspelled name!**

**Chapter 9**

Clara leaned over the sink and splashed water on her face, blinking wearily. She fumbled for the towel on the rack behind her. She felt the soft cloth beneath her fingers and brought it to her cheek, wiping the stray beads of water clinging to her skin. She glanced up at herself in the mirror. She lifted a hand to her cheek. Her face was pale and drained. Her hair hung limply about her shoulders, glistening from the few stray droplets that had managed to fly in that direction.

She still couldn't believe that she had fainted in Bracken's car. Of all the stupid and embarrassing things she could do! And right before he had been about to kiss her—or at least that's what she'd thought at the time. Why else would he have he been leaning toward her? But the thought that Bracken Redfern would want to kiss her was almost unfathomable. She was the least likely girl for him to choose out of a school that had so many beautiful girls, most who were a lot better verbally than herself.

Why did she have to go and faint? It's not as if she were all that distraught. She had been more miffed than anything else. After everything she and Drew had shared...and just what had they shared anyway? A delicious shiver ran up her spine just thinking about that moment in the living room. She pushed at the good feeling stubbornly. It had all been a part of her imagination—it must have been. No wonder Drew had played a trick on her. He must have thought she was so strange and so...gullible.

She didn't know why it upset her so much. Unconsciously, she must have been changing her mind about Drew. It was disconcerting to have all her preconceptions torn and dropped around her feet. She'd wanted to believe that he was different than everyone else said. She hadn't even realized how important it was to her until now. But she should have expected as much from Drew.

She grumbled slightly, pulling her hair back from her face. Her auburn air pulled up away from her neck. She tied it in a loose knot at the back of her head and began to apply an exfoliating cream. She'd bought it about six months ago but didn't use it faithfully. She'd never had skin problems. But right at the minute she felt like she needed to do something to her from her churning stomach.

When she had finally come to Bracken had been too nervous and helpful. He'd wrapped his coat around her shoulders and suggested he take her home. She had agreed—terrified and humiliated that such a thing had happened. It was scary to learn that she could faint for no particular reason at all. But Bracken had been so sweet about the whole situation, insisting on helping her into the house. The worst part was that he hadn't tried to kiss her again. Because that's what she wanted...at least that's what she thought she wanted. She didn't really know anymore. Her thoughts were all so jumbled and disjointed.

She frowned slightly as she caught sight of something on her neck. Two somethings. She leaned forward to see what they were: two tiny little red marks—kind of like mosquito bites. Funny how she didn't remember being bitten.

She shrugged to no one in particular, yawning. She really didn't have the energy to think about it right now. She padded down the hall into her room. As soon as she caught sigh of her comforter, she dove into bed, encasing herself in quilts. She fell into a deep, restless sleep.

Clara was just barely able to brush the knots out of her hair before she had to rush down to the breakfast table the next morning. She was feeling a lot livelier although she was still a little drained. She couldn't figure out what had brought that reaction out in her. She supposed it really didn't matter all that much since it was going away now.

She slumped down at the table, yawning big. Jim handed her the corn flakes after he was done with them. Stifling the yawn she poured some in her bowl. "Thanks," she managed.

Jim nodded, staring off in space again. Clara snorted affectionately, knowing he couldn't hear her. He was always staring off in space. People at school thought he was weird, but to Clara he was just her brother. So, he was a little different. So what? There was no crime in that. No one could exactly call her normal either. She could hardly say to words to a guy without her face turning red and having to wrack her brains for something to say. She wasn't going to condemn Jim for having an imagination.

"Good morning sleepy heads," their mother said, coming into the kitchen.

Clara nodded, taking a bite of her cereal. Jim just continued to look off into space. About ten seconds too late, his head shot up. "What?" he asked. Then he added without anyone replying. "Oh. Good morning."

"You guys ready for exams?" Their mother asked.

Clara nodded. "We'll be fine. Besides, exams aren't for a couple more days."

She took another bite of her Corn Flakes, chewing slowly. She just needed a few more minutes to get her head wrapped around the idea that a new day had started. She was still half asleep. Clara didn't get the chance to mull over her morning rituals because a knock sounded at the door, startling all the inhabitants of the room—except for Jim, that is.

Mrs. Goddard frowned. "Who would be here at this time in the morning?"

Clara shrugged and pushed her bowl of cereal away. Her mother was preoccupied with pulling a bowl out of the cupboard. She stood up, volunteering. "I'll get it."

It was probably just Lizzie anyway. Lizzie wasn't known for stopping by in the mornings, but Clara couldn't think of who else it could be. It wouldn't be one of her dad's friends because he had already left for work about an hour ago.

Clara took the doorknob and twisted it. She pulled the door back, bearing a sunny smile while still trying to blink some of the sleepy dust out of her eyes. The smile dropped from her lips in surprise the moment she caught sight of the figure on the doorstep. She quickly reinstated her grin so he wouldn't think he was unwelcome. His appearance was just so unexpected that she didn't know how to react.

"Bracken!" she managed.

Bracken smiled back steadily, the early morning light falling across his dark hair and dappling his broad muscular shoulders. The sun glinted off his eyes, seeming to throw the light back at her.

"Clara," he said. "I brought back your car."

She pulled open the screen door that separated them and moved out on the porch to join him. She looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, her car was sitting in the driveway. There was a sulky, dark-haired boy standing beside it with his arms folded across his chest.

Drew.

Bracken turned his face so that his lips couldn't be seen from where Drew was standing. He spoke in a whisper just inches from her ear.

"I'm sorry I brought him," he said. "But I needed someone to drive the other vehicle so I'd be able to get home."

Clara shrugged. Now that she'd had a good full night of rest, she was less inclined to take Drew's joke personally. Plus, she really didn't have the energy to be holding grudges right now. Exams were coming up.

Something about Drew's sour expression unnerved her. There was a dark glint in his eyes. Something told her that the dark expression wasn't tuned toward her but toward his brother. All the same, it sent a shiver down her spine.

Bracken seemed to notice her imperceptible movement and took it as fear for her safety. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll protect you."

Clara frowned slightly. "I'm fine," she said. He was putting on the protective bit a little thick. Drew hadn't even tried to hurt her.

Bracken took her chin then, and turned her face up to look at him. Clara's breath caught in her throat. There was a worried look in Bracken's eyes—a look of desperate warning. "Don't underestimate him," he pleaded in an undertone. "The only reason he agreed to come is because he didn't want me to be alone with you. He's taken an interest in you. I don't want you to get hurt."

Clara felt a sudden leap in her heart the moment that Bracken said Drew had taken an interest in her. She buried the rising hope with horror. What was she thinking? But as much as she wanted to deny the fact that the feeling had been there at all, she knew that it had been.

Clara swallowed. "Why me?"

Bracken shrugged, the dark look falling from his features. He smiled at her hesitantly. "Don't you know?" he asked, his fingers dropping from her chin.

She shook her head.

"Don't you know how beautiful you are? It's just…" Bracken floundered for the words. "There's something different about you. Something special."

Clara's heart caught in her throat.

"Drew's not the only one who can see it," Bracken continued with a significant glance. "I do too."

She was starting to feel a little bit faint. She couldn't believe she was hearing this. She must be dreaming or something because there was no way that this could be happening. As much as she tried to convince herself that it was a dream, she couldn't manage it. The sun was just too bright. The sound of the early morning birds chirping was just too real. Everything was in perfect and sharp clarity—a clarity that no dream could have.

Clara didn't know how to respond to Bracken's words. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "Thanks," was all she could manage.

Then Bracken's head was dipping toward her again. Clara took a soft intake of breath, realizing his intent. Her chin rose slightly, expectantly, her body flooding with effervescent and giddy emotions. She didn't know how she was managing to keep them from showing on her face.

A sharp thought ricocheted through her head just as their lips met: I wish Drew weren't here to see this. The kiss was everything she would have expected it to be, but she wasn't able to enjoy it because her whole attention was focused on Drew and what he should be thinking. And she knew she was an idiot for it. She fought her guilty emotions.

Bracken pulled back with a smile, looking a little hesitant. He shot one backward glance—almost looking like he was searching for a rise out of Drew. Then his fully attention returned to Clara.

"Hey," he said. "I was wondering…well…I thought maybe we could try for that study session again today. Maybe it'll work out this time. How about if I meet you in the library instead of at my house?"

Clara was nodding automatically, almost giddily. Yet she still couldn't seem to ignore the sharp pang of guilt that was lodging itself in her chest.

Bracken leaned in close again. "Promise me that you'll try to keep away from my brother?"

She nodded. She knew he was right. As drawn as she was to Drew, he was a dangerous person. "I'll keep away from him," she promised.

She only hoped Drew would offer her the same courtesy. She had the feeling that he wouldn't.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks to Swtichafoot and End-of-ur-world for their Reviews! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 10**

Drew's car squealed into the school parking lot and he threw open the door, slamming it behind him. A group of students walking up to the school jumped at the sound. They looked over to see who it was and then just shrugged as if they weren't surprised.

So this is how you see me! Drew thought, wanting to pound his fist into the side of his car. He resisted only because he couldn't stand the thought of making a dent in the gorgeous sports car. This is how you all see me!

He moved toward the front door quickly. He couldn't allow himself to stop or he might take his anger out on the next hapless individual who gawked at him. He couldn't remember being so furious in his life. He knew he should just forget about Clara, the conniving little…He couldn't finish that sentence, even in his mind. A part of him couldn't stand to speak of her that way, no matter how angry he was with her.

And how angry he was with Bracken. A great long string of expletives coursed through his brain at the thought of Bracken. He didn't get the same consideration. He knew what his brother was up to, he'd even looked back to flaunt the moment he kissed Clara.

Drew took a deep breath and pushed through the double door. He could calm down. He would make himself calm down. He kept his arms at his sides, clenching them when he felt another flare of anger coursing through him. Slowly, the fight began to leave him. He sighed and leaned against the wall of lockers, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

He had just known that his past would come back to bite him in the rear. And now it had. Clara had felt what was between them. He knew she had. It had been amazing…electrifying. But now she was pushing away the feelings like they had never existed. She was pushing him away—and choosing his brother. If it had been any other guy it wouldn't have hurt so much. But Bracken and he had been fighting for things their whole life and Bracken always won. But it hadn't meant so much then as it did now. This was so infinitely more important.

Before, he had just shrugged all Bracken's accomplishments off. What did he care if Bracken was head of every team in school? What did he care if Bracken made all the best grades, made friends with everyone, was loved by everyone? He didn't. He'd turned to a wild lifestyle to prove that he didn't care about all of that.

And now Clara was rejecting him for his wild life. That had to be it. Unless she liked Bracken better too: just like everybody else. Drew swallowed bitterly and pushed the thought away. But there had been something special between them—even he didn't understand what it was. All he knew was that if she had felt it too, then she couldn't like Bracken better. He knew this because she had suddenly become the most important thing in the world to him.

And it ached to know she would never be his.

I'm not a bad guy, he thought. I'm not this evil person they all make me out to be. I'm not that person!

Drew took a deep breath again and clenched his fists, waiting for the anger to slowly dissipate. It finally left him, and what followed was sheer determination. He would prove it to her. He would prove that he wasn't that guy anymore. He could be nice. He _could_.

"Hey man," a voice drawled over to his left. "You look like you've been through a hurricane. Not getting into trouble already. It's only eight o'clock."

Drew opened his eyes and cocked his head in his friend's direction. He snorted at Reed. "Just sour."

Reed had a slinking look about his and a lynx eyed gaze. Just now, with the overhead lights shining down, Drew caught the eyeshine coming from Reed's eyes. His body, though thin, was wiry and strong and naturally tensed like any vampire. Reed was the only other person in Drew's gang of friends that was a Night Person. The rest were a bunching of big and fumbling humans who could barely add two and two. Drew knew he was more than exaggerating, but he couldn't help but feel some lingering disdain for humans in general.

Reed snorted. "Aren't you always?"

"Take that back," Drew's growl was only half-joking. His shoulders tensed slightly.

Reed lifted his hands in a warning gesture. "Don't push me, man," he said, his eyes flashing. "You're my bud, but if you pull a trick on me like you did on Jordan, I'll throw you into those lockers right now."

"Jordan's an idiot," Drew replied and leaned into the locker wearily. He felt his aggressions slowly being released. "He deserved it."

Reed snorted. "No doubt. He's one of _them_. But don't knock your gang. If you want them to work for you, show them a little leniency once and a while. Let him flip up a few skirts. Why did you stop him anyway? You trying to go for that girl?"

Drew shook his head and bristled when Reed's tone rose in such a way at the word girl. It was more than just an appreciative tone. It was an "I want some of that" tone. He felt a sudden flash of protective anger for Clara. He knew what Reed liked to do with his girls. His excuse always was "they're only humans after all."

"Nah," Drew said, choosing his words carefully. He continued in thought speak because they were in a crowded hallway. _But now that you mention it. She looks like she has some sweet blood…I only hurt Jordan because he was ruining the silence. I needed to think._

Reed nodded appreciatively. "If I didn't have my own girl wrapped around me all the time I'd go for her myself."

Drew knew that the only reason she was wrapped around him half the time was because he used his powers on her. Reed was an excellent telepath, and even more excellent at influencing humans that they wanted something that they didn't.

"So," Reed said suddenly, changing the topic. "Did you think about my offer? Huh? It could be great!"

Drew shrugged almost indifferently. "I don't know, man…" he let his sentence trail off.

"What do you mean you don't know? Come on! It would be the life!" Reed argued. "Club hopping, good pay, surrounded by beautiful women, and some excellent vacations to the enclaves."

Reed had been badgering him about this since the start of the week. He wanted Drew to join up with the slave trade group importing humans to the islands. Reed's uncle was into that sort of thing. He made an excellent living off of it, and he'd offered Reed and Drew jobs as soon as they got out of High School. Only a week ago, Drew would have been enthusiastic about the prospect. Not only was it all the things that Reed had mentioned, but it was wild and on the edge. Just the sort of thing he would have wanted to do to prove that he wasn't just into small-time crimes.

But suddenly things were different. All because of one human girl who obviously didn't give a dang about him. But after what he'd felt—after that moment—humans had become real within his mind. They weren't just vermin. They were people. He may have felt some disdain toward their entire race, but he couldn't just write them off as cattle anymore. And something about sending them off into slavery for a perpetual food supply—well, it sent queasy ripples through his stomach. He didn't know if he could condone it.

But he couldn't tell Reed this. He couldn't let Reed know he was going soft. Then his friend would get the same ideas in his head as his brother. And that could be dangerous. It was already bad enough that Bracken knew that he cared for Clara.

He knew in some twisted sort of way that Bracken was trying to help him, but it didn't make him feel any better. He only hated his brother all the more for it.

"I don't know that I can," Drew replied. "My dad's been on my back lately. You know, the whole 'you'll play a part in the traditional family occupation or else' kind of thing."

Reed was looking at him insistently. "Come on," he said. "I know your father can be pushy and all, but that wouldn't take up all your time. You could still hop clubs with me at night. Drew, we need you. The girls follow you like a moth to a flame! Business would boom!"

Drew shook his head. "And if I'm ever found doing anything even slightly shifty? My father would kill me. You don't understand Reed. You weren't there. He really put his foot down. He wants to look like he's being a good Night World governor. He won't tolerate me hurting his reputation by getting into trouble."

Reed shook his head, looking disappointed. "You're a wuss," he snapped. "Don't tell me you're actually scared of him! I know you. What's gotten into you lately? The old Drew would have told him where to go."

Drew folded his arms across his chest and fixed his friend with a stare. He knew he was probably losing his friendship then, but surprisingly enough, he didn't care. He was shedding his old skin—and everything else that went with it. He was done being Drew the bad boy. He'd had enough of it.

"Well, maybe I'm not that person anymore," Drew said with a deadly strain in his tone. "Maybe I have better things to do."

Reed's lynx eyes flared with the comment. "Forget you."

Reed shoved by him, slamming Drew's shoulder with his own as he began to stalk off. The movement was so unexpected that Drew stumbled back a step. He caught himself with lightening reflexes and turned on Reed, gripping the front of his shirt.

He acted on instinct, doing what the old Drew would have done. His fist connected with the other boy's nose and he went sprawling, landing on a girl who was carrying a pile of library books. Blood spurted.

People were yelling and hopping out of the way. They'd attracted quite a crowd in only a manner of seconds.

Reed was on his feet in a second, his nose already head. "We're over," he declared with a dark look. "You're not my friend."

Drew shrugged, too angry to care. "Fine by me," he retorted.

Reed swore at him and turned and stalked away.

Drew turned to look at the girl sprawled across the floor. She slowly began to get to her feet. He felt a small ounce of pity. In the past he would have left her there and ignored his conscience.

She kneeled to begin picking up her books.

He knelt down beside to her to help her gather up her stuff, but a guy got in his face. "Hey," he said. "You stay away from my girlfriend, you hear? You've already hurt her enough."

Drew gave him a dark look. "I was just trying to help."

The boy snorted. "You? Help? There's no such thing."

Alright. Drew was definitely mad now. There was only so much abuse he could take in one day. He stood to face the human boy who thought he was so tough. He folded his arms across his chest. "Don't mess with me," he stated with emphasis.

"Just stay away from my girl," the guy replied, refusing to look away from Drew's piercing gaze.

Drew took the front of the boy's collared shirt and lifted him into the air until the toes of his shoes lifted off the floor and shoved him against the wall of lockers. The crowd oohed.

"You picked the perfect day to mess with me," Drew said, his voice deadly calm.

The boy flailed, pounding on Drew's steel grip uselessly and letting out a string of expletives. Drew was seriously considering making an example out of him when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Now what? He let the boy drop to the ground and turned. When he saw who it was, his heart started to thump hard—and he wouldn't have been surprised if blood started rushing into his cheeks.

He felt a mix of anger and shame. He was trying to start this day out better than most, and he'd only made a mess of it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Haha! I finally got it written! Thanks to MoonGoddess0808, incarnated-soul, End-of-ur-world, Ande, Terriah, and jrepg for their reviews on chapter 10! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 11**

Clara was feeling queasy. It didn't seem like the proper reaction to have when Bracken offered to take her to school. It also didn't seem like the proper reaction to have when the walked down the hallway at school with their fingers intertwined. She should be excited. Everyone was gawking—especially the girls. And it wasn't a freaky kind of gawking. No, it was an I-wish-I-could-be-her kind of gawking.

The car ride had been murder because they first had to drop Drew off at his house. He didn't say a word. He only sat there with a sullen, closed off expression, his shoulders tense. And it tore at Clara's heart to see him like that. She only wished that she could somehow make everything better. But Bracken was right. Drew was a dangerous person. She could pity him, but at a distance. There was no point in getting herself in unnecessary trouble. She'd only end up regretting it.

Lizzie almost screamed when Bracken and Clara walked up. Her eyes got all wide, practically bugging out of her face. She placed her hand over her mouth and just stared for a few seconds, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Then she seemed to relax enough to say hello.

"So you guys are...Well, you're together, aren't you?" She added.

Clara didn't really know how to answer that question. They hadn't technically talked about that--and she didn't know if she really wanted to. At the moment her stomach was only flopping around and telling her that she'd made a big mistake. She wished that it would settle for just one minute so that she could take a moment to think clearly. Her emotions kept getting in the way.

Before she could answer, Bracken replied. "Yeah."

"Hey, I know you don't I?" Bracken added with a wide and friendly smile for Lizzie. "You used to date my brother? Like a year back?"  
Lizzie was nodding in a bubbly fashion, her cheeks glowing with pride. Bracken as in the Bracken Redfern knew who she was. Clara could tell exactly what was going through her friend's brain at the moment. It wasn't hard considering they'd known each other for so long. "Yeah," she said, reaching out an energetic hand. "I never really saw you around though. I didn't think that you would know. It's really nice to meet you."

Bracken smiled again, calm and cool as ever, grasping her hand. "Of course I knew. I don't miss out on stuff like that."

Clara found her mind wandering as her well—boyfriend and her friend continued to talk. Well, Bracken was talking. Lizzie was practically squealing, being her bubbly self as usual.

Clara's hand felt uncomfortable within Bracken's grasp. It felt damp and clammy, and she just wished that she could pull it away. She was too shy to try. She was worried that Bracken would get a bad implication from the action—which was totally silly. But she was thinking it anyway.

Luckily, Bracken said. "Well, I have to go…I've got an early morning meeting with a teacher. I'll see you guys later."

Clara nodded mutely. Bracken leaned over quickly, leaving a light kiss on her cheek. Then he left. It wasn't even a moment after he turned the corner that Lizzie began to squeal in a high-pitched voice. She gripped Clara's wrists, nearly jumping up and down.

"I can't believe it!" She squealed. "My heart almost stopped when I saw you two coming through the door! I never thought it would happen because you never tried to get him!"

Clara swallowed and shrugged. "Yeah…um…"

Lizzie gripped her shoulders and shook her slightly. "What's going on with you? Why aren't you excited?"

Clara shrugged again under Lizzie's insistent grip. "I don't know…" she trailed off. "Maybe I just thought this was what I wanted. And then when I got it, I realized that it wasn't."

Lizzie was shaking her head in bewilderment, like the idea shouldn't even be running through her head. It wouldn't have run through Lizzie's head. She was one of those people that just lived in the moment. "What's the big deal? You got what you wanted. Just be happy with it. Have fun while it lasts!"

Clara only nodded grudgingly.

"Do you realize how many girls would kill to be in your position?"

There's one that doesn't, Clara thought. That's me.

A commotion pulled them from their discussion. Students were yelling and cheering. Clara frowned. The noise was coming from the main hallway. Lizzie was already heading over to the noise. She couldn't stand to miss a juicy story.

Clara followed her with a puzzled expression. They veered into the main hallway and nearly hit a mass of students standing in a circle. Must be a fight, Clara decided. Nothing else brought the students like a moth to a flame.

She raised herself on tiptoes and tried to look over the sea of heads. And there—up against the lockers, a guy was being held by his shirtfront. He wasn't a tiny guy either. He looked like the kind of guy who could hold his own. Clara's eyes trailed along the hand that was holding him pinned to a boy that was standing with his back to her. She knew him immediately as she saw that tousled, curly dark head.

"Great," she muttered under her breath and began to worm through the crowd. As usual, Drew was getting into trouble. But she felt somehow responsible for this outburst.

She didn't know what she was going to do when she managed to get through the crowd. She only knew that she needed to do something. Some of the students resisted to her pressure, wanting to keep their front seats to the fight. Clara did something she had never done before—she shoved them aside and broke into the center.

Drew's tense back was to her. The guy was pummeling at Drew's grip, but to no avail. Clara was once again reminded of how strong Drew was. But he would never hurt her. That fact was suddenly so crystal clear within her mind.

She reached up and tapped him on the shoulder before he could cause any further damage. The crowd gasped at her audacity. She knew what they were seeing. Shy Clara Goddard, the girl who couldn't speak to a guy without fumbling over her words, trying to break up a fight. It was quite the site, she could imagine.

Drew sighed and dropped the guy, turning toward her sharply. Almost violently. As soon as he saw her, his hands dropped to his sides and he sent her a look. A look of shame and of anger. He was mad at her. That much was obvious.

But in that instant, most of the fight went out of him.

Clara took hold of his arm with a firm grip and began to pull him away through the crowd with a grim look. He allowed himself to be towed under her touch. The crowd parted in a wave, looking on like this was the biggest news they'd seen in their four years at Miada High School. Lizzie was among them, her eyes bugging. She knew how much Drew scared Clara, so this was probably giving her a heart attack out of amazement.

She ignored the stares and brought him down a side hallway. There was a little nook under the stairs that would be out of the sight of human eyes. She pulled him in before anyone got the chance to look down the hallway.

The warning bell rang, and for once she didn't care. What did a class matter at the moment. Her every limb was tingling with a sort of nervous energy and she knew that something more important was happening here.

Ignoring the tingling, she turned around to look at him.

"What was that?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest to hide the fine tremor that had overtaken her. "You can't just go beating people up because you feel like it. People matter."

Drew responded with an exasperated glance. "What did you expect me to do, Clara?"

She felt pleasurable shivers tingle down her spine as he said her name.

"I was trying to help his girlfriend and he turned on me," Drew added sullenly. He let out a disgusted groan. "I can't do it! Do you hear me? It just won't work!"

Clara frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about changing," Drew replied, looking her straight in the eye with a hard look. His tone was clipped and grating. "That's what you want, isn't it? So I tried. But I can't change. People won't let me. Whenever someone says the name Drew in this school, people only think of all the bad things I've ever done. Or all the stories people have made up—that aren't even true! If something bad happens, Drew did it! My name's tainted!"

Drew was working himself into a real rant now, pacing back and forth like a caged jungle cat. "I'm like Jezebel!"

Clara found herself becoming more and more uneasy as he turned to pace in another direction and then back again. She reached out to grab his arm and pull him to a halt. There was a faint buzzing in her ears, but luckily she only touched the cloth of his sleeve.

"Jezebel?" She asked. The name sounded familiar.

"You know," Drew replied grumpily. "That biblical queen. The one who sacrificed babies to her god, Baal. She killed the prophets of other religions and forced everyone to worship her god. The name's tainted now. It's a beautiful name, but it's tainted all because of one woman. No one can ever think of that name as anything else again." He said the last part distinctly, through gritted teeth. "People don't allow other people to change."

It was a beautiful name. Something about it stuck in her mind.

Drew suddenly reached out and snatched her hands, bare skin to bare skin. Electricity shot up her arms and she gasped.

"You feel that, don't you?" Drew said with almost a desperate look on his face. "I know you do. How could you do this to me? Why Bracken, Clara?"

Clara swallowed hard as her chest began to balloon. Her body was overrun by tingles and her chest ached sweetly as the balloon grew. Her body was awash with sensations and her mind was completely aware of his hands holding hers with a warm and gentle grip. He looked so warm and solid that a part of her wanted to fall right into his arms.

The fuzz was engulfing her brain. His words managed to break through the fuzz, completely crystal clear. "I can't change for you. I want to, but I can't."

His eyes were so sad, so wounded. Clara didn't know what to do—maybe she didn't need to know. Something was already happening. Her chest was at the bursting point. And his mind was nearing hers, drilling through the space that connected them.

Suddenly she found that she wanted this to happen. Whatever it was, she wanted it. Needed it. More than she'd ever needed anything in her life.

Overcome by a wave of emotion, she leaned forward audaciously. His lips met hers halfway, and then were just kissing, carried away on a sea of delight. He pulled him to her until their bodies were flush against each other. She leaned against him, feeling his heart beat wildly and trusting him not to take it too far. She was too lost in the sensations to be responsible for her actions.

And all the time the space between their minds was drilling ever closer. And then, contact.

_Clara!_ The thought hit her mind on a wave of dizzying sweetness.

Clara gasped, her knees turning to jelly beneath her. She buckled. Drew wasn't able to catch her because he was falling too. They fell, clutching to each other. Nothing else was solid in the world. There was no other world except them.

_Drew_, she responded almost inarticulately. She was too filled with wonder to say anything more. Her mind was continuing to think internally. She realized distantly that her thoughts were drifting toward him of their own accord. _So this is what I was afraid of. It's nothing to be afraid of. It's wonderful_.

She didn't even stop to think about how this could be happening. It just felt so right.

_Yes_, was his only response. He was gone. He'd lost all control and he was reveling in it. She realized that they were still kissing. His kisses moved along the side of her jaw and then he began raining kisses on her neck.

Well, if he was going to get lost in it, she might as well too. She basked in the glow that was illuminating their minds. She reached out to brush his mind with her own, feeling like she wanted to be very gentle with him. His mind was so bruised. She could feel it, even from here.

His hot breath was on her neck. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain that made her teeth ache. She could feel him nuzzling her neck.

An odd thought occurred to her. Is he drinking my blood?

And then the world was lost.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_She's here! She's inside my head!_ The worried almost frantic thought bulldozed through the elation that had encompassed him. Before had been nice, but now felt like an intrusion. He tried to push her out until he realized that it wasn't just his mind anymore.

He recognized the dark crevices of his mind, like deep ocean caves, filled with sadness and repressed anger over the years. He recognized the happy moments, like sunlight dappled on the surface of the water viewed from a few feet below.

But the water was broken by sunny meadows and the smell of old gyms. He could feel insecurities that were not his own—things he had never before felt. Clara had a fear of what people thought or said about her that magnified his own—a fear that people would dislike her if she said the wrong thing. A fear so sharp in fact, that she often chose not to speak at all. And he felt elation in her when she twirling through the air, breaking free of it all. She was in one word: breathtaking.

But he was still afraid to have her here. This was his sanctuary. And there were so many things about himself that he didn't want her to know. And he suspected that this force that was making her show him her vulnerabilities was also working on him.

Suddenly she was standing before him in one of the crevices he was attempting to hide him. The core of her mind embraced his the way their bodies were embracing just now. She was the one who offered comfort this time.

_Don't be afraid. Don't._

_You don't understand_, he replied on a thought. _You don't have things to be ashamed of._

She only held him more tightly. _I know there are things in your past. I accept that. But look at yourself now. Are you that person?_

She was sending tendrils of thought toward him. Tendrils of love and concern. The feelings almost abated him into a calm. But he managed to hang onto one reservation. _Are you sure you can handle who I am now? I'm not like you Clara._

Would she be able to handle the fact that he had just bitten her? That he was probably still drinking her blood as their minds were entangled? He hadn't been able to resist. He had wanted to. What right did he have to drink her blood? But when here throat was so near, and he had been lost in the heat of passion—he'd lost control. And somehow, drinking her blood had entwined their minds. He knew that drinking blood increased telepathic rapport, but it had never been so strong before. He was usually able to push it away.

And could she handle the fact that there was such thing as a Night World? A society of people that hated humans? Were ruthless toward them?

He was just able to stop these thoughts from flowing to her mind. The force that had brought them together was trying to rip out his darkest secrets. It wanted to throw his mind into a stark, naked illumination until he could hold nothing back.

_Well, the only way to find out is to see_. Clara removed herself from the embrace and hurried to view his mind, stroking through the sun-dappled waters with laughter and ease. She sent a thought back to him. _I didn't know you were a swimmer!_

_Clara, wait!_ He attempted to chase after her thought. _It's not all good and nice_.

When she continued her search, his thought became desperate. _Clara, please!_

Before he could stop himself, he was beached on a shore. And dozens of images were fighting their way into his memory. Clara going on camp outs with her family. Clara and Lizzie at the gym, both working harder and harder to beat the other one at the task while pretending it wasn't competitive. A young Clara having a pillow fight with Jim. Her heart wrenching when Jim came home one day with a bloody nose because the other boys were picking on him. Her face turning hot and red because she couldn't think of anything to say. Admiring Bracken from a distance but never having the courage to talk to him.

Drew felt a burst of anger at this thought.

But the images were coming faster now so he couldn't focus on his brother. Anger at Drew for subjecting her brother to a whirly—he remembered that. He'd only done it because his friends were egging him on. He knew it was no excuse.

But anger toward him for more than that. Every time she saw some sliced tires in the parking lot, or the broken lights in the back of the library, she thought of Drew. The list of things she thought of when his name was mentioned marched on. The obscene graffiti spray painted over the fresh new coat on Lizzie's car. The mysterious stranger that drove Charlie Toth's car off a bridge last year. The guy who'd broken up with her best friend just because he was feeling moody.

He knew that he was responsible for most of the accusations. The others were products of his friends. But he couldn't help but feel indignation toward the accusations. _If you think so badly of me, then what are you still doing here?_ He asked furiously.

She was too involved in his thoughts to answer. He would be surprised if she even heard him at all.

But the response to his question came in images. Gratitude toward Drew when he stopped Jordan from flipping up her skirt. Realizing suddenly that she felt comfortable around him when she was moving through her gymnastics routines. Realizing that maybe he wasn't what she thought after all. Suddenly caring what he thought and worrying that she talked too much around him. Fear of the unknown when they touched at his house. Unbearable guilt at the look in his eyes after she had kissed his brother. And a feeling of wanting to comfort him—to make everything better. 

He felt his anger receding. He only wanted to be gentle toward her, to help her the way she wanted to help him. She had so many insecurities that were groundless. He wanted her to know that she didn't have to be so afraid of what people thought.

He began to search through their minds, looking for her. He instinctively knew which way to look. He dove into the sun dappled waters and strove deeper. A fear entered him when he knew where he was going. It was a particularly dark cave that held some of his darkest secrets.

_Clara, don't!_ He called out. _Please don't! You don't want to know_.

But it was too late. He could feel her every thought—her every reaction—even from here. He could see what she was seeing. An unconscious Lizzie sitting in the passenger seat of his car. His mouth was at her neck. Slowly his head lifted, showing a bestial expression. Two fangs indented his lower lip. His mouth was cherry-red from blood.

Shock reverberated through her core, reaching out through her whole mind. She was shaking and ripping frantically at the glue that held their minds together. Her thoughts held the verge of hysteria in them.

_Oh, no. No. No. It can't be true. It can't be real. He—he can't be. There's no such thing as vampires. I'm hallucinating. This has to be a dream. All of it. There's no way it can be real—_

She began to blabber on nonsenically as her normal, orderly world was shattering into confusion.

He tried to pull her to him; to calm the shaking that was threatening to pull them apart. _It's okay_, he soothed. _It's real, but it's okay. I would never hurt you. You know that, right?_

Nothing he could say would break through to her.

And her entire mind was thread with spasms. Parts of him felt raw and aching where she had managed to rip her thoughts away from his. She was becoming farther and farther apart, fighting the force that was trying to keep them together.

But it wasn't time yet. There was still more that had to happen before the force would calmly let them extricate from each other. He didn't know what that more was. But something had to be resolved. Somehow, by trying to break free early, she was violating some law that made his whole being protest.

His nerves were on fire and she wouldn't stop wrenching away.

Then their private world shattered. Suddenly he was in the little nook under the stairs. He moved his mouth away from her throat but kept her close, stroking her hair. She shimmied from his grasp and attempted to move away, but fell onto her back weakly.

Drew felt sudden shame as he realized what her problem was. He had drunk too much blood. He had been so engrossed in their world that he hadn't been able to stop himself.

"Oh, Clara, I'm so sorry," he whispered as she gasped for breath.

He lifted up one knee and gathered her to him, propping her back against his arm and leg.

"Wha—what's wrong with me?" She shivered, looking dizzy.

"You lost too much blood," he said truthfully. He didn't bother to lie to her. She deserved the truth. "You'll be okay. You're just weak."

She coughed lightly, while he ran his hand through her hair.

"So you're a vampire," she managed.

"Yes," he replied, watching her intently.

"And Bracken?"

"Yes," he said again.

"And there are more of you?" she persisted.

"Many, many more," he replied a little bitterly. "And witches and werewolfs and shapeshifters. We make up a society known as the Night World. I'm sorry Clara, but we're real."

She seemed to tired and too plagued with the image of when he bit Lizzie to contest that fact. The realization was slowly hitting her. But she was taking it fairly well now. That, or she was just too sapped to make any real argument.

"Clara," he said, thinking suddenly of what he had just revealed to her. He spoke insistently, wanting her to understand. "Can you do me a favor?"

"What?" she coughed.

"Don't tell anyone that you know about the Night World. Do you hear me? You can't let anyone know. For your safety."

She frowned at him slightly. "Why not?"

"Because," Drew said, wishing that he didn't have to make her worry about such things. He wished that he could protect her from all of that. He began again. "Because if the Night World finds out, they'll kill you. We have two cardinal rules in the Night World, and one is to never let humans know we exist."

Her thick eyelashes lifted, framing her blue eyes. She looked him right in the eye, seeming to take comfort in his gaze. She had finally calmed down, and was relaxing in his grip. "And what's the other rule?"

"Never fall in love with a human," he replied. "I've broken them both."

He never even stopped to marvel at the ease in which he told her that he loved her. It was so simple and innate, and yet it burned in him so strongly. He couldn't deny it any longer. He couldn't have stopped loving her if he wanted to. There was something between them that could never be broken.

She smiled slightly at his comment, and closed her eyes as if to conserve energy. For a moment he thought she had gone to sleep, but then she spoke. "What just happened between us?"

Drew shrugged. "I don't know. I've never heard of it happening before. I wish I had a better answer for you but I don't."

With a sudden thought, he lifted his free wrist to his mouth. He felt his canines growing long. With a quick motion, he cut his wrist. He brought it toward her mouth.

"Here," he said. "Drink. It will make you stronger."

Clara opened her eyes and looked at his outstretched wrist. She shook her head vehemently. "I don't want to become a vampire."

"You won't," he assured her. "It usually takes about three exchanges of blood."

She just looked at his wrist, her eyes fixated on the welling blood. She nodded ever so slightly and he brought his wrist the rest of the way toward her mouth. She cringed as she took the first swallow and then seemed content enough to continue. Vampire blood didn't taste like human blood. He had heard that it tasted as sweet as wild berries. He himself had never tasted vampire blood.

A fuzzy connection grew between them again. It wasn't as strong as the last one. The power between them seemed to be beaten back for the moment. But he could feel his heart rate increase and the space between their minds was drilling closer. Then the space disappeared and Clara was able to speak to him telepathically, but the world didn't disappear.

_Thank you,_ her thought rose toward him, filled with gratitude in and love.

He didn't send back words. He sent back feelings, his strong need to protect her and make her happy.

With every swallow, the color was returning to her cheeks. Finally, she pushed his hand away, severing the connection. "I've had enough," she said, sitting up slowly.

He nodded slowly, feeling hazy for the moment. He didn't want the moment to end. He wished he could keep her here, always close to him, but that wasn't always physically possible. Besides, she'd probably get annoyed with him.

"We need to go to our classes," she said. "Before we're discovered."

He nodded slowly and reluctantly and began to help her to her feet.

"You're not going to say anything about the Night World, right?" He asked again, insistently. "You'll keep it to yourself?"

She nodded and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Don't worry. I won't say anything."


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks to Terriah, Dulce Ambrosia,End-of-ur-world, cat-eye jane, moongoddess0808 and Perceive for their reviews.**

**Chapter 13**

Clara's jacket had slipped to her elbows, leaving her bare arms in her short-sleeved shirt. Goosebumps hit her arms as soon as she entered the library and it wasn't just because they kept the air-conditioning on full blast. She'd been dreading this moment all day.

She shivered involuntarily and pulled the fabric up over her shoulders and hugged her arms about her middle. She was glad to have her auburn hair falling about her shoulders and framing her face. It would be a nice curtain to duck behind if she needed it.

Her eyes surveyed the silent room. Two librarians were speaking in soft tones behind the counter while checking through a stack of books they'd just received. Clara nodded to them tentatively and moved further into the room.

She caught the whiff of worn book pages and the cedar wood bookshelves. She moved passed several rows of shelves, the floor creaking gently beneath her feet. She tucked her head into the break between the rows. Several tables were arranged in a square-like fashion. A few were occupied.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the one on the far left. A boy sat there with a few books splayed before him and his elbows propped against the tabletop. His dark hair fell over his forehead and he didn't look up when she moved into view.

Clara chewed her trembling lip. She hated this. She had never broken up with someone before. She never had to because she was too shy to even have a boyfriend. The worst part was that she was gathering a small audience from the students at the tables.

"That's the girl Bracken's dating?" A girl whispered to her friend at her left. "But I thought she was that shy girl. You know—the one who never speaks."

Her friend's reply was too inaudible from this distance.

Clearly their whispering wasn't too inaudible for Bracken's ears. He looked up suddenly, a slow smile breaking across his features. He motioned her to the table.

He really is a good-looking guy, her mind thought rather distantly. But for some reason, that smile didn't seem to make her turn to mush anymore. She really didn't know that much about Bracken—only what she had heard from gossip. And now what she had gleaned from Drew's mind.

She had been more focused on Drew than Bracken, so that gleaning created only a small inventory to go on. She knew that Drew held a deep and angry jealousy for his brother, although he denied it, even to himself. Clara supposed it must have been hard for him to grow up with the most popular boy in school—to always have his parents compare him to Bracken. But that didn't mean that Bracken was a bad person, did it?

Something kept her from being completely at ease as she moved to the table and took the seat Bracken had pulled out beside him.

"Hey," she whispered, her hair sliding forward to cover part of her face. She gave him a weak smile and eased into the seat, feeling the smooth wood beneath her.

A crease appeared between his baby blues and her reached out to take her hands. "Are you all right? What's wrong? Has my brother been bothering you?"

Clara bit her lip and shook her head.

"Are you sure? Someone told me you got in the middle of one of his fights this morning," Bracken replied with a searching glance. He rubbed his thumb along her palm.

She pulled away and folded her hands in her lap.

"It was fine," she assured him. "Really. They stopped fighting as soon as I got near. Don't worry about it."

"Then what's wrong?" Bracken said, waving his hands about and looking for the right words. Finally he allowed them to rest at his sides. "You're exuding—I don't know…anxiety?"

"Oh. That," Clara responded. She could never hide her emotions. They always seemed to reach her face. And it was usually so embarrassing because she was generally feeling shy or wanting to kick herself in the head for speaking before she thought something through.

Right now she was more occupied with the eyes that were boring into her from all directions. About a dozen pairs of eyes were watching to see what would happen between Bracken and his "supposed" girlfriend. She didn't know what she had been thinking by dreaming of this kind of attention over the past couple of years. This wasn't what she wanted. It only made her feel more ill at ease.

"Do you think we could talk?" She asked softly and nudged her head in the direction of the other students. "Without an audience?"

He looked up as if he hadn't even noticed the dozens of eyes. He probably hadn't. Bracken was probably used to the attention.

He nodded and drew back his chair. It scraped along the floor, making Clara cringe. It was a great way to gather more attention, if all the attention was not already surrounding them.

He took hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet. He jutted his head toward the back of the library. They moved through what seemed like eons of bookshelves. The library was pretty large for such a small school, but Clara was taking every moment and stretching it to its capacity in her mind, her heart thumping oddly.

She knew where he was leading her and she wasn't very comfortable with the prospect. There was a small nook at the back of the library with a couple of stuffy couches that were worn and old with some of the stuffing springing forth out of the cushions.

It was only half-lit because most of the long rectangular glass covering the fluorescent glow had been smashed by Drew's gang a few years ago, and the lights beneath had been also destroyed. No one had bothered to replace the damage, but thankfully the tiny bits of glass that littered the floor for a week following the even had finally been removed. It showed how often the librarians ever came back here.

Just about never. That is why it had become a very popular make-out spot among the students. That was why Clara was unhappy.

Bracken stopped once he had reached the nook and turned around to face her with a half-smile. He took both her hands.

"I think we should be well enough alone back here," he announced and then asked. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I—" Clara began, swallowing with a dry throat. "I…um—Bracken, I…"

She was battering herself thoroughly in her mind. Why couldn't she just say the words? Why was it so hard anyway? But her mind was running wild on her, trying to find the best way to break up with someone. She had to do it without hurting his feelings because she was afraid of what he'd think of her if she didn't.

Why did she have to be born with a curse like this? Why should she even care anyway? She'd seen from her venture into Drew's mind that not everybody thought this way. Not everyone thought out their sentences to thorough precision before allowing themselves to open their mouths.

She didn't want to be like this anymore. And she didn't want to always take everyone else's feelings into account before her own. Besides, it was impossible to make both Drew and Bracken happy. And she loved Drew.

She couldn't say the same about Bracken. Sure she had admired him for years. Even idolized him. But loved him? No.

It was a moment of clarity. I do not love Bracken, she thought. A smile curved along her lips as she thought this.

Then she realized that Bracken was looking at her oddly. Her head shot up as she realized that she had been daydream. She shuddered to think how long she had been off in her own world. She felt her cheeks tinging red.

"Sorry!" She apologized and hated herself for saying it. More than that, she hated herself for realizing that if she wanted to change it wouldn't be easy. Even as she was thinking about changing, she was also preoccupied with what he thought. She could feel the anxiety rising in her.

"It's okay," Bracken soothed and pulled her even closer. They were only a few inches apart.

Oh no! He was probably going to kiss her. She had to stop him somehow. She couldn't bear to hurt Drew again. And this was the surest way to do so.

She took a step back, shaking her head.

Bracken paused, giving her an odd look. There was something almost grating about his tone. "What's going on?"

"I—" she began again. "I want to break up."

Bracken looked positively perturbed. "What?" He demanded. "Why?"

"Because I'm not in love with you!" She blurted. "I'm sorry!" she added, backing up even further. Her shoulder blades came to rest upon a book shelf that hid the nook from view. "I'm just not. I can't change that."

"Clara, I know you felt—" He stopped himself, as if he were about to say something incriminating. Instead, he said, "Does this have something to do with my brother?"

"I—yes," she said finally. She might as well tell the truth. "I know you lied to me about him. He's there is no terrible thing that he's done that I don't know about."

"Clara," he shook his head vehemently. "You don't know what you're talking about. You can't trust him. How else would you know what you think you know?"

"I know!" She said stubbornly. There was no way she could tell him how. She worried that that information could be incriminating. Drew's warning rested at the back of her mind. Never let anyone suspect you know of the Night World.

He placed a hand on either side of her, boxing her between the bookshelf and himself. His voice came out in a growl and his eyes shone with a silver light. He looked inhuman—which was true.

"Stay away from my brother, Clara. Do you hear me? Stay away from him."

She shook her head. "No!"

His hand moved from the bookshelves to her throat. There was nothing caressing about the gesture. His eyes shone with pure malice as he jerked her forward until their faces were only inches apart.

"If you ever—and I mean _ever_ go near my brother again—I'll kill you. Do you hear me Clara?" He hissed. "I'll kill you. And don't believe I won't. I don't care about you. I never did. So watch your back."

Clara gasped beneath his bruising grip. For a moment she thought he would choke her until she could no longer breath, but his hands slid away.

"I mean it," Bracken whispered sharply.

And then he was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Wow. Sorry it took me so long. Things have been crazy lately. I appreciate that you all waited so patiently. Anyway, thanks to LostTranslation, End-of-ur-world, Terriah, and Moongoddess0808/Hecate0808 for their reviews.**

**Chapter 14**

Drew had a grin running up his cheeks all day. He couldn't seem to help it. Everything about him was euphoric. He'd never felt like this in his entire life. Usually some bitter or resentful threads wormed their way into the back of his mind, bringing him down to earth. But nothing could have killed his good mood today.

He wanted to be with Clara every moment, but he knew he shouldn't. He knew how hard it was for her to accept everything that he'd just revealed to her. He'd broken apart her whole perception of the world and now she had to place it back together with the new bits. And it had to be hard to realize that humans were not at the top of the food chain, like they'd always believed. He would give her some time to think it all over.

Besides, he thought with his first twinge of regret since they parted. He could seem to keep his distance when she was so near. The bloodlust became so strong that at points he couldn't control it. He hadn't been able to control it today, and that scared him. He could end up hurting her. Really hurting her. And then he'd end up turning her into a vampire because he couldn't stand the thought of seeing her die. Never being with her again. His heart wrenched just thinking about it.

But Clara couldn't be a vampire. It just wasn't in her nature. She had very clearly stated today that she did not want to become like him and he could understand this. It was a great burden to bear. The benefits did not outweigh the curses of his nature. She would be furious with him for making her like that. She might hate him forever.

So he must wait for her body to rejuvenate--for her human cells to battle it out with the vampiric ones.

Drew sat on the front step that led away from the grand entrance. He didn't know what to do with himself. It was as if the world was hanging over him, waiting for its cue to go on. So we love each other, he thought. So something happens when we're together that I've never experienced before--something that shouldn't even be possible. Now what?

He was saved from having to answer such a difficult question when the front bell rang. Drew would have been lying if he said that his heart didn't jump into his throat at that minute. His first thought was, maaybe it's Clara.

He hurried over and grasped the door handle. Even before the door opened, he knew it wasn't her. He caught the distinct smell of witchery--a combinations of flowering plants and herbs. A different collection of natural objects that witches liked to douse over their bodies. This particular sent filled his nostrils and entered his brain, leaving him relaxed and unnoffensive.

The door opened to reveal a petite girl with a lank of silver-blond curls and warm amber eyes.

"Jen," Drew stated, his eyes widening.

He didn't expect to see her here--not after she and his brother broke up.

"Hey," she said, smiling warmly. Jen had always been nice to him, even when his brother wasn't. She was like that with everyone. It was just her nature. "I left some things at your house a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh," Drew replied, still trying to pull himself from his thoughts. He finally managed to do so. "Um, some of your witch stuff?"

She batted him lightly on the arm and stepped into the entrance. She reprimanded lightly, with a twinkle in her eyes. "Don't call it that. It's lore and history. It's for the vampires as much as the witches."

Then she said. "I think I left it in the library."

Drew nodded, nudging his shoulder in the direction of the library. He moved up the stairs, and her feet whispered behind him. Like human feet. Witch's bodies weren't exactly well-equiped for stealthy movement. It was to be expected. They were almost like humans as it was. Heck, their blood even tasted human for the most part. He'd had a couple of willing donors at different points in his life. What set them apart was their way to use nature that baffled even him. He had once seen a pale pink fireball resting in Jen's fingers, flickering merrily.

He pushed through the library door to reveal cherry wood bookcases lining the walls and a steady oak table stained cherry to match sitting in the center of the room. There was a magnificent built-in chess set in the center of the table. The wings of the table had been pulled up to make room for study materials. They were strewn with papers--probably Jen's study materials.

Drew took a deep breath and stepped aside so that Jen could enter the room. A familiar, woody scent hit his nostrils. He loved this room although he rarely entered it. There was something calming about it. But he'd been trying to keep up a reputation, even among his own family members. He was Drew the bad boy. He didn't read. Now it all seemed so silly and inconsequential. Clara had changed everything for him and there was no going back--even if he wanted to.

"Thanks," Jen said, as polite as ever. She began to gather some of the papers together.

Drew moved to the table to help her. He lifted a paper, about to stuff it into a pile, but a passage caught his eye.

_One from the land of the land of the kings long forgotten;_

_One from the hearth which still holds the spark;_

_One from the dayworld, where two eyes are watching;_

_And one from the twilight to be one with the dark._

It was just a silly poem. Nothing more. But he found himself asking anyway. "What's this?"

"Oh!" Jen smiled, looking really pleased that he was actually taking an interest in her witch stuff. She rarely found people who were interested in talking about lore with her. She took advantage of every chance she got. Drew knew that he had probably got himself stuck in an hour-long discussion about nonsense, but he didn't have anything better to do at the moment. "I found that in an old diary. It's just a copy. Apparantly, it's supposed to be a great prophesy about the end of the world. The problem is, that no one has ever found the original manuscript so most witches are wary about it. They're not sure if they should believe it's true."

Drew frowned slightly. "What does this have to do with the end of the world? It looks more like a puzzle than anything else."

"Well, they are riddles in a way," Jen said, chewing her lip. "It's information about the four wild powers who are supposed to start popping up in the days nearing the end of the world. There's another prophecy about them that I found in the old diary."

She rifled through the papers for a few moments before coming up with one and handing it to Drew. "Here, look."

_In blue fire, the final darkness is banished._

_In blood, the final price is paid._

_Four to stand between light and shadow,_

_Four of blue fire, the power in their blood._

_Born in the year of the blind Maiden's vision;_

_Four less one and darkness triumphs._

For some reason, the words seemed to come alive in his head, dancing about his subconscious. There was something he needed to know--something they were trying to tell him. However, when he reached out to grasp that information it was gone. He strained his mind harder, blinking unseeingly at the page. However hard he tried, the iformation still evaded him.

He frowned slightly, muttering to himself. "This is important."

"So you feel it too!" A wide grin was breaking across Jen's cheeks. "Most people think it's a load of crock. But I know it isn't. Those prophecies have to be out there somewhere. And we witches will find them some day.

Drew nodded and helped her gather up the rest of the papers. He surprised himself by saying, "Keep hold of these. They might be useful someday."

Jen gave him an odd look.

"What?" He asked, feeling a little perturbed under her gaze.

"You're changing," she stated simply. "And I think it's a good change. Whatever's causing this...don't let it go away."

A small smile played along his lips. Don't worry, he thought. I wouldn't let her go. Not for the world.

All he said was. "Thanks for stopping by."

She turned to leave, but he got the odd urge to reach out and catch her shoulder. She stopped, turning around to view him with her amber eyes. "What is it?"

Drew didn't really know. Well, he did. But he felt embarrassed to ask. The old Drew would never have asked such a thing.

The words finally managed to stumble out of his mouth. "Why did you and Bracken break up?" He asked. "You two were so happy together. And you're still great friends."

"Because," Jen said after a moment, nodding to the stack of materials in her hands. "I'm looking for something more."

Drew's eyebrows hitched up in perplexity. "You're looking to study?"

"No," she shook her head with a smile at his confusion. "As you know, I read into a lot of this history and lore. I found this one passage where a witch was speaking of something called the soulmate principle."

Something burned in Drew's chest at the sound of the word. He was barely able to ask, "What is it?"

"Just what it sounds like," Jen replied with a shrug. "There's one special person out there for everyone...and when you know, you just know it. With every fiber of your being. I want to find that person, even if it takes me to the ends of the earth."

So that's what they were. Soulmates. And he knew it with every fiber of his being. Everything in him told him rang true to his belief.

Drew's eyes flared up. He knew that he was coming dangerously close to revealing something. "Even if he were human?"

Jen laughed at this. "Of course not, silly. Humans are vermin. They're not like us. They couldn't possibly have soulmates."

With that, she turned to go. Drew didn't stop her this time.


	15. Chapter 15

**Wow, sorry it's taken me so long to get this out. I know that it's been months. Literally months and months--perhaps half a year. I hope this chapter makes up for it being so long in coming. Thanks to incarnated-soul (it's been a while. How are you?), Terriah (thanks), Kalika Scott (It wasn't back then, but I know what you mean. That's what Thea was in the beginning, before she met Eric), Ande (heh...yeah, I've been terrible and haven't updated in forever. Don't know if you're still around but it's great when you are because you catch me on my grammar issues), and mwth06 (thanks)**

**Chapter 15**

He was watching her. She could feel his eyes boring into her back like a pair of sizzling hot coals, etching his territorial mark into her. People said that Drew was the scary one, but they were wrong. She couldn't understand what made him want to hurt her—just to get back at his brother.

There must have been more animosity on Bracken's side than she had gleaned from Drew's mind.

Clara bunched up her shoulders, wrapping her arms tightly about her shoulders.

"Is everything all right, Clara?" A pointed voice broke through her layer of thoughts.

She nearly jumped. Instead, she smiled hesitantly at the teacher's expectant expression. "I'm fine—just cold."

The teacher nodded sympathetically. "The thermostat doesn't work properly. I don't want to touch it or I may make the situation worse."

Clara just nodded, wishing for the attention to drop away from her. Many curious faces had turned in her direction at the teacher's questioning. She ducked her head to view the etchings in her desk—_Suzie loves Derek_—to take her mind off the eyes positioned two desks behind her.

Don't think about him, she told herself. He won't hurt you as long as you stay away from Drew.

And she had been staying away from him. She'd been avoiding him at every turn. It was for his good and hers. She didn't understand much about the Night World, but she understood enough to know that she wasn't the only one in danger. Drew's life could be forfeit as well.

Clara didn't realize how anxious she would be to be out of this school for good—to graduate and move on. Then all the fear would go away…

Deep down she knew that wouldn't make everything better. Already a deep aching had begun in her—and ache that burrowed deep in her chest and spread through her nerves into her outer extremities and into her teeth. Sometimes she was filled with fine tremors as if she'd drunk a gallon of coffee.

But she knew what she was really feeling—withdrawal from him. She ached to be near Drew. She ached to hear his voice and to lean into him. She had never known that she could feel this much about one person, but her heart was near bursting from it. It was an agony that only seemed to increase with each moment she was away. It killed her to know that she might never be able to bask in his serenity, his strong and steadying arms.

It will pass, she told herself. Someday I will be able to feel normal again.

The bell jangled loudly.

Clara was up and out of her desk, clutching her books before the teacher had even dismissed the class. She moved as fast as she could into the hallway and away from the boring eyes.

She burst out into the sunny California afternoon and took a deep gratifying breath. This was one of the last times she would ever set foot on this campus. She had exams and then it was over.

Now that her heart was beating a little slower, she had the presence of mind to slip her books into her backpack. Red lines crossed both pale arms where the book had cut into her circulation because she'd clutched them so tightly.

She nudged the backpack over her shoulder and headed toward the racks of bikes. She deftly turned her combination and disengaged her pedals from an adjacent bike. The students hadn't even begun to pour out of the building. She'd be long gone before Drew was even released from class—she hoped.

She took a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves and aimed her bike across the school lawn toward the street. Her legs felt numb and unpracticed against the pedals and it took all her concentration to keep the bike moving in a straight line.

It was as if some bubble burst in her as soon as the front tires hit the street and her nerves began to relax. Her bike settled into a steady course and she turned down the long hill that would intersect with the road she needed, taking her out to the suburbs she called home. She didn't live too far out of town—just far enough to be able to see some empty space in between, dotted with small stands of trees and the occasional subdivision.

She'd been riding for about ten minutes when she heard the sound of a vehicle humming behind her. The vehicle grumbled to a stop.

"Clara will you get in the truck?" Drew's voice was soft but demanding. He wasn't really asking. It was an order.

She shook her head violently and refused to look at him, afraid she would give in to his plea. She blinked rapidly and licked her lips, tasting the salt there. She hadn't realized that she was crying until just then.

Maybe she had just started to cry.

All she knew was that she needed some sort of emotional release from all she'd been through in the past couple of days. Her whole world had been turned upside-down and now Bracken wanted to kill her—would kill her if she didn't do what she was told to.

"Clara," there was something silky and dangerous about Drew's tone. "Do I have to come out there?"

She shook her head again, spraying tears. "No," her voice came out raw and cracked. "Just leave me alone. Please."

There was the sound of a door clicking shut and quick as lightening, Drew's face was hovering in her vision, angry and fierce, with his dark mop of curls disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He looked physically pained.

He grasped the handlebars of the bike Clara was balancing, finger-to-finger contact. One foot was firmly planted on either side of her front tire. He leaned in closer, his eyes set on hers as a shiver started in her fingers and ran up her arms.

"We need to talk," his tone was resolute. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Another pair of wheels hummed along the asphalt, squealing to a stop. "Clara?" a reddish head leaned forward to speak through the opened window. It was Jerry, one of Lacey's ex-boyfriends. "Are you alright? Is he bothering you?"

Drew visibly stiffened. He looked like he was ready to lose his cool.

Clara drew a wrist under her eyes, wiping her cheeks dry before she turned to look at Jerry with a grateful smile. "Thank you, but I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Jerry observed.

Drew let out a heaving sigh and turned, stalking toward the vehicle. "Did you hear her, idiot? She's fine. Get out of here!"

A sharp breath was issued from the vehicle. Jerry moved the car into gear and sped away. No one, and Jerry wasn't near an exception, could stare Drew down in this mood.

"You could have been nicer to him," Clara intoned. "He was only trying to be helpful."

"I can't be nice! I don't want to be nice!" Drew pivoted toward her once more and quickly and deftly began to extricate her from the bike. As if he thought that she would ride away, right out of his grasp and disappear for good. Clara couldn't do that because she couldn't even seem to get in control of her trembling muscles.

Drew threw her bike into the truck bed where she didn't have easy access to it.

He leaned in close until their noses were almost touching. "I haven't slept in days because I don't know what the heck is going on with you! One day you're happy—we're happy—and then you're avoiding me. Do you know what that does to me?" His eyes were piercing—accusing. "I can't function! I end up railing on little guys like Jerry that can't hold their own."

"Drew, I cant—we can't…" She trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

"Look, Clara, if you wanted me to leave, I would. I would go away forever. Your word is law to me. But I have to know why. Why are you doing this to me? Don't you realize what we have? What we are?"

"I don't—" Her voice cracked. She was crying freely now, the salty droplets trailing down her cheeks. She ached with every nerve just to touch him, to fall into his arms and stay there forever. They were meant to be together. They belonged together. She could feel it.

"We're _soulmates_!" He finished.

Clara let out a gasping breath as the words reverberated through her. She had never heard a word so true—so right—to explain what was happening between them. She fell into his arms, nuzzling her face into his gray t-shirt and cried.

His arms moved to encircle her, holding her so gently. "I love you, Clara. I can't help it and I don't want to. We were meant to be like this. Let's not fight it, okay?"

"Drew," she whispered. "I know. I love you too. But I'm scared—for both of us."

He pushed her back then, to look at her. He regarded her with a searching expression. "Afraid of what?"

She glanced about at the empty road. It still didn't make her feel any better. One person from school had already driven passed this spot. There was no telling that Jerry wouldn't spread the news that he had seen them together. He didn't know how important it was that they keep this a secret.

"Let's get out of here," she said, shivering slightly. "And then we'll talk."

He nodded, understanding her immediately. He moved to open the door, guiding her into the passenger seat. He sealed her inside, running around the vehicle. He hopped into his seat, his breath calm and even.

The truck purred to a start and moved along the road at a steady pace until an old and overgrown dirt road cut into a pasture. Drew guided the vehicle off the road and through the grass, moving the truck into the stand of trees behind. The leafy vegetation hid them from the outside world.

Clara told him everything, and Drew became angrier and angrier at each word she spoke. At one point he even slammed his fist against the steering wheel. It probably would have disturbed any other girl, but Clara knew that he would never hit her—never hurt her. She was safe with him.

"He can't keep us apart!" Drew burst out finally. "No one can! I could kill him for what he did to you!"

"But he can," Clara returned, trying to get him to see sense. "Don't you see? If he knew we were in love, he could expose us to the whole Night World."

Drew visibly shuddered at this. "I hate him."

Clara nearly agreed, but stopped at the last moment. "But he's your brother. He must have a reason for all this."

"What reason?" Drew turned to look at her, his tone filled with loathing and distaste. "He's always hated me. Why do you think he's tried so hard to outdo me? I don't know why he even cares—it's not like I've tried to compete with him."

Clara reached over and gripped his hand, feeling a fresh wave of tingling. "Forget about it," she told him. "Bracken isn't what matters right now. What matters is that you and I can never be seen together again. And it hurts. I want to cherish every last moment that I have."

Without another word, Drew turned and pulled her toward him, mussing her hair with his fingers. She tipped up her chin to look him right in the eye as he gazed down at her, their breaths mingling.

He leaned forward, kissing her softly. Her lips moved to kiss him back. She reveled in the all-encompassing sense of Drew. His presence was everywhere around her—and then he was enfolding her mind once more.

She reached out with tendrils of thought to brush him tenderly.

_You know_, Drew's thought was contemplative. _I've talked to my dad and he's agreed to let me go away to university for a couple of years. He thinks it might help me get my focus. I—we—can get away from all this. Bracken doesn't need to know that we'll be together. He'll never know._

Clara felt a small ripple of excitement—of hope—rise up in her.

_But what if you don't get into the same university?_ She asked, the hope dropping again. It's a little late for admissions.

_It doesn't matter_, he returned decisively. _I can fake an acceptance letter for my dad. I can work for a year. Then I can catch up with you the next year_.

A giddy euphoria rose in her and she laughed—laughed with her mind and began to rush around, breathing life into his memories and entwining tendrils of thought with tendrils of thought. She didn't know when she had felt so happy in her life.

_I love you_, she announced. She wished she could announce it to the world. Drew was the most amazing, wonderful person she had ever met and she just wished everyone could know him like that.

He seemed a little calmer than her, more bemused, she decided. And a little confused with all the connections between them fuzzing his brain up with sensation. He rose to the challenge, _And I love you. You know I do._

And then she was content to revel in a sense of him. At that moment, she became as aware of their bodies as she was aware of their minds. They were still kissing. Violently. Passionately. They were getting closer and closer physically, as if their bodies needed to be one like their minds.

She felt a burst of panic. _Drew, I don't think we should…_

_I know_, and he drew back mentally. Suddenly the physical world began to feel more real to her, her back wedged up against the door handle. He extricated himself from her and moved back to allow space to pass between them.

He seemed to be gripping the steering wheel for something to do and staring out at the foliage surrounding them. She readjusted herself so that her back wasn't wedged into the door handle.

Then he glanced back at her with a half smile. "I know how traditional you are," he said and the underlying words were, _I know everything about you_.

They were connected in a way still, even though they weren't diving in each other's minds. She could still feel him, know everything she ever wanted to know about him and still be yearning to know more.

"And I want you to know that there'll never be anyone else but you. Never," he intoned. "I love you and that's not going to change. I'd walk down the isle with you right now just so that we could be together forever."

Clara smiled. He respected her. He would wait for her. And that meant the world to her.

"Thank you," she spoke softly, touched.

He nodded. "I'll drive you home," he told her. "And then I'll see about wiping Jerry's mind."


End file.
